True Colors
by TwiLyght Sans Sparkles
Summary: Asteria drilled him with a stare. "Either he's in or he's out, Neville. If we want Malfoy as our ally, we'll have to treat him like one." Slight AU. Companion piece to Defiance.
1. Letter One

_Dear Dad, _

_What to say? It's been years since I wrote you, and I wouldn't blame you if you chose to crumple this letter and toss it aside without reading it. I know Mum doesn't write, and I'm sorry to say this is the first letter I've sent you—a fact I'm sure hasn't escaped your notice. Silence is a difficult tradition to break. Nevertheless, I felt I must share an important bit of news with you, news I can't keep to myself: _

_I'm getting married. _

_Did that shock you? I apologize. Maybe I should have told you sooner. Maybe I should have written years ago, with letter after letter about my life and what I've been up to and why I chose this career over that one and how Asteria and I are doing. Then again, you never had time for that sort of thing before; what difference would a life sentence in Azkaban make? _

_Part of me wants to cross that out—the part that wants to keep this letter cheerful and upbeat, hiding the pain and bitterness you caused. The little boy that idolized you tugs at my sleeve. "Don't say that," he tells me. "You'll hurt his feelings. You'll make him mad." _

_Another part of me says to leave it. The frightened teenager who hid in his room, who scarcely dared to leave for fear of having some small mistake noticed and reported to the Dark Lord, stands behind me and folds his arms. "Leave it," he says. "'Bout time he heard the truth. He might even listen this time." _

_Then Asteria enters the room. _

_"May I read that?" she asks, then takes the parchment without awaiting permission. A soft, sad smile curls her lips, and for a moment, I'm convinced she knows I'm not alone. She sees the child pleading beside the desk, the teenager glaring from the corner. Not for the first time, she sides with the latter. "Leave it," she says, handing me the unfinished letter. "He needs to know." _

_"You tell him, then." _

_"No, dear. _You_ need to tell him."_

_"Why me?" _

_She smiles again. "Secrets only have power when they're left in the dark. Shed a little light on them and see what happens."_

_Far be it from me to argue with her. Not because I fear what she'll do—I've never had to—but because, like many wives, she's usually right. So I let the sentence in question remain. The child looks at the floor, and the teenager's eyes sparkle; the child has been disappointed once again, while the teenager has won a rare victory. _

_I know she's right. I need to tell you the truth, as much as you need to hear it. So I suppose I should start at the beginning. I should describe my future wife to you, and be as thorough as possible. _

_She's beautiful. I know you can see it in the picture I included, but I need to say it. A picture can't capture who she is; it can only show a tiny moment in time, a snapshot of her loveliness. Perhaps I'm going overboard with the descriptions, but I love her. _

_Love. Not exactly forbidden in our circle, but not a prerequisite for marriage, either. I know I'm breaking tradition, choosing my own partner, but both Mum and her parents gave their blessing when we made the announcement. Mum adores her, and her parents insist I address them the way their daughter does: as Mother and Dad. I'm honored that they already consider me their son, but I must admit it's odd having a second set of parents. Her sister, Daphne, is polite and friendly, but not overly so. _

_By now I'm sure you've made the connection between the three Asterias: the one who tutored me in the Cruciatus Curse, the one who stood beside me as I challenged the Dark Lord, and the one I am about to marry. They are the same person, as you might have guessed; and different though they may seem, they are all part of the same personality. _

_I know you have questions, the biggest of which is, "Why did you choose her? Why would you choose a Ravenclaw, when her father sent me to Azkaban?" To answer that, I'll have to go back to the beginning. I'll have to tell you my story—our story—from the start of my seventh year at Hogwarts, her fifth. Before I start, you have to know something about that year: It was the worst year of my life. _

_The previous year was bad enough, trying to complete a task I was expected to fail. But Hogwarts was still Hogwarts, a somewhat safe haven with teachers who didn't yet know what I was. Only a few of my fellow Slytherins knew I'd taken the Mark, and I'd sworn them to secrecy. Potter suspected, but he just followed me around, trying to learn what I was up to. The fear I lived with was hidden behind a veil. _

_After the Ministry fell, however, the veil disappeared. All the terror came out into the open, manifesting itself into three forms: Aunt Bella at home, and the Carrows at school. No matter how I tried, I could never escape. One or the other was always there, scrutinizing my every move, and quick to inform me when I made a mistake. That helpful hint usually took the form of a beating, followed by a Glamor Charm to hide the bruises. _

_Did you know? Or did you deliberately hide from the evidence pointing in that direction? _

_Few people knew. I never told anyone. Mum is just now learning the details, and each new story makes her want to pay a visit to Azkaban so she can give the Carrows a taste of her anger. If you've heard about a campaign to place dementors around the worst offenders—namely, the Carrows—you can be sure Mum is leading the charge. _

_But Asteria knew. Of course, she didn't see everything. But she saw enough, and she knew that she'd seen only a glimpse of what was going on. Most who witnessed what she did would have assumed each incident was isolated. They wouldn't have thought there was more. Death Eaters are allies, after all. Allies don't abuse their own. _

_Asteria knew that wasn't the case. She claims it's a gift, being so perceptive. She used it during that awful year, and she successfully kept most of Dumbledore's Army safe from the Carrows, while building up her reputation as a talented torturer. That she enjoyed the Cruciatus Curse was one of the few lies she ever told. I don't think she ever actually performed the curse; she had become quite adept at faking it. _

_But I'm jumping ahead. I should go back to the beginning, when I first met her. Only then can you understand what she meant to me, and what she means to me now. __I didn't meet her until shortly before the Christmas holidays, but she noticed me long before that. Unlike the other members of the DA, she knew there was more to my story than she could see. Shortly before Christmas, she found out what it was._

_

* * *

__Sorry if that ending seemed a tad abrupt. I plan to continue it in the next chapter, from Asteria's viewpoint. _


	2. Asteria, Part One

_Thanks to tenneyshoes, Ali Becker, Analie209, The Glowing Mischief, L.A.H.H. and RavenclawRebel for the reviews! _

* * *

Asteria Greengrass tapped her wand against her palm in what she hoped was a menacing fashion. "All right, then, this is how it works." Her voice echoed against the stone walls. The student, a third-year Hufflepuff, swallowed hard. "I'll yell 'Crucio,' and you scream. You _will_ scream. You will not attempt some sort of protest by remaining silent." Asteria curled her lips into a cruel, practiced smile. "I don't like that."

The Hufflepuff pressed her back against the wall, tugging the chains that bound her there. Asteria thought absurdly of Professor Binns walking through the blackboard. This girl, no doubt, wished she could mimic their teacher and escape through the stone. Her hopes rose. With any luck, the Hufflepuff's fear would carry them both past the first obstacle.

Asteria raised her wand, pointing it not at the girl, but at the wall slightly to her left. "_Crucio." _

As predicted, the young Hufflepuff screamed. Her cries were amplified by the stone chamber until Asteria thought there might be three girls screaming instead of one. She kept her wand raised until they subsided; only then did the girl realize she felt no pain. The cries had been pure terror. Chest heaving, she stared at Asteria with wide brown eyes.

Asteria smiled, but this time it was kind. "That was wonderful," she said, eyes twinkling. "Could you do it again for me?"

* * *

Once again, Alecto Carrow praised her efforts.

"Magnificent job, Greengrass. Brilliant work, as usual."

"Thank you, Professor." She glanced at the Hufflepuff and saw her slumped against the wall, eyes closed, muttering nonsense under her breath. She smiled, then turned back to Alecto. "Shall I leave her chained until morning?"

"No, no, release her." Her lips curved in a nasty smile. "Let her find her own way back." With a contemptuous look at the girl, Alecto left the chamber. Asteria waited until the woman's heavy footfalls retreated from the dungeons, then knelt beside the girl and tapped the chains with her wand. The iron cuffs opened, and her arms dropped limply to the floor. Asteria smiled wryly.

"You're a natural."

The girl opened her eyes and regarded Asteria with amazement. "You were scary."

"I have to be."

"Do...do you always...?"

"Fake it? Of course."

"I'll have to tell the others. They-they all think you're horrid—I've heard stories..." She stirred a little. "Once I get back to the common room, I'll—"

"Lie your arse off," she finished. "It's the only way I can keep doing this. So stay here, and come up with a few choice words to call me when you get back to your friends. Cry if you can." Asteria got to her feet. "And be careful, will you? I can't guarantee you'll have me for your next detention."

Tucking her wand into her belt, Asteria headed for the stairs. She had her hand on the handrail and one foot on the first step when a voice, low and menacing, caught her attention. Unable to make out the words, Asteria tiptoed toward the sound. As she drew near, she realized the voice belonged to Amycus Carrow...but he couldn't be speaking to a student. When a student disappointed or angered him, Amycus' insults could be heard for miles. Frowning, heart racing, she inched closer until the conversation came into focus.

"...let dear Lucius know his son can't master a simple curse?"

"It's hardly simple, Professor."

"Don't you take that tone with me!" A loud smack followed his voice, then silence. Asteria felt the blow as if it had struck her own cheek.

"I-I didn't mean any disrespect."

"Said the same thing to the Dark Lord, didn't you, Malfoy?" Asteria heard the sneer in his tone. "He sees through your little game, you know. You think I can't?"

Asteria heard Malfoy draw a breath.

"Alecto has you down for three detentions right after the holidays."

"Three? In-in a row? But-"

"No 'buts'! You'll do 'em, and you'll do 'em right, you hear?"

More silence.

"Well?"

Malfoy's voice was a whisper. "Yes, Professor."

"Good." He murmured a few words, then stepped back a pace or two. "Get to bed."

Asteria pressed her back against the wall as Amycus stormed out of the chamber. Resisting the urge to peer at Malfoy, she hesitated only a moment before hurrying after her teacher.

"Professor Carrow?"

Amycus whirled, wand aimed at her heart; then he lowered his arm. His eyes softened, and he smiled ever so slightly. "Greengrass. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"I just finished with my detention." She drew a breath, plunging ahead before she could change her mind. "I apologize for eavesdropping, but I was on my way back to my common room and couldn't help but overhear you talking to Malfoy."

His eyes narrowed. "How much did you hear?"

Asteria shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Enough."

To her relief, Amycus sighed. "He won't get it. I sign him up, and he fails every time. Makes me wonder if he's trying..."

She forced a smile. "I could tutor him, if you think it'd help."

His beady eyes bored into hers, and Asteria got the uncomfortable feeling that he was trying to discern her motives. For an instant, she thought he might have heard her thoughts; then his lips curved into a smile. "I like that idea, Greengrass. I like that very much."

Asteria grinned. "Perfect! So when shall we begin?"

"After the holidays. You'll accompany him on his detentions. Show him how it's done, eh?"

"I will, Professor. I won't let you down."

Amycus sighed. "That makes one of you." With that, he headed for the stairs. Asteria smiled triumphantly at his retreating back, caught the sound of a footstep and turned. Her smile faded.

Draco Malfoy stared at her from the corridor, pale in the dim light. One hand was braced against the stone wall, and he clutched his wand in the other. It was his eyes, however, that held her attention: wide and sad and turned directly on her. Asteria may as well have volunteered to torture him, rather than simply tutor him in the art.

She wasn't sure how long he held her gaze. All she knew was that when she finally managed to race up the stairs, his eyes seemed to follow her.

* * *

Asteria had intended to share the good news with Neville while boarding the Hogwarts Express. She had planned to scribble a note on a bit of parchment, slip it into his hand at the Hogsmeade station, call him a name, and adjourn to the prefects' compartment without attracting any suspicion from the Carrows. But when she sat down to write it, everything she tried rang hollow. The look in Malfoy's eyes froze the words in her quill, and nothing she did could put them on paper.

In the end, she simply caught Neville's eye, gave him a half-smile, and hurried to her compartment. The two Gryffindors raised books as she took her seat. One Hufflepuff scooted away, while the other developed a sudden interest in his badge. The other Ravenclaw, a boy named Cale, turned the page of his Potions book. Only Daphne, seated with the other Slytherin prefect, smiled. Much of this reception had been practiced beforehand at Neville's urging. It wouldn't do to have the Carrows' favorite little torturer recieve a warm welcome by known members of Dumbledore's Army. "Sort of defeats the purpose of having a spy," he had told her.

But not all hatred was rehearsed.

From across the aisle, Daphne raised her eyebrow_. Any news?_

Asteria shook her head slightly, then took a book from her bag and opened it on her lap. Not even pretending to read it, she stared out the window at the passing countryside.


	3. Asteria, Part Two

_Thanks to L.A.H.H., Analie209, tenneyshoes, IvyLeagueIvy, Ali Becker, The Glowing Mischief and RavenclawRebel for the reviews! _

_A quick note on Asteria's name: JKR gave it as both Asteria and Astoria, so I picked the version I liked better. _

_

* * *

_Preparations for Christmas were well underway when Asteria and Daphne arrived, and both sisters were quickly drafted into the effort.

"Daph, wind that garland around the banister, will you?"

"Sure, Daddy."

Samuel Greengrass twirled his wand. Mistletoe sprang from the floor and attached itself to the ceiling. "Ter, put those candles and sprigs of holly in the windows."

Asteria took a handful of holly and headed for the front window. The table where the menorah usually sat was empty; an assortment of colored candles lay on the floor in an untidy pile. "Aren't we putting up the menorah this year?"

"No." Her mother, Frieda, pursed her lips.

Daphne whispered a charm and the garland leapt into the air, then began to twist around the banister. "I thought you said we wouldn't have any of your charming Ministry friends over for the holidays, Dad."

"No, You-Know-Who needed them elsewhere. But you never know who might be watching."

"I doubt a simple menorah will send us to Azkaban," Asteria said.

"It could arouse suspicion," Frieda's words were brisk and clipped, her slight German accent more pronounced, and Asteria knew the decision had not come easily. Nor was the matter up for debate. "Remember the Wallaces? The power of the Dark Lord. It's all that matters now." She didn't try to disguise the bitterness in her tone.

Daphne slowly climbed the stairs, her attention focused on the garland. Asteria placed three candles on the windowsill, one red and two white, and surrounded them with sprigs of holly. Stray comments from the Carrows had left no doubt as to their opinion of religion, but her parents had been careful. She and Daphne had been careful. No one but their family would notice the menorah.

But the decision wasn't hers to make. The conclusion had been reached long before the decorating began, and Asteria knew, in the back of her mind, that it was for the best. She moved on to the next window and tried not to think about the menorah, locked away in the cellar for another year at least. The little table would look strangely bare without it, no matter how many candles were lit in its place.

* * *

Asteria approached her mother the next evening, tapping her shoulder as she set the dinner dishes to washing themselves. She whirled round, nearly dropping her wand. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry, Mother. I was wondering if you could help me with some stuff for the DA?"

Frieda exhaled. "Yes. Of course." She tilted her head, and they took seats at the kitchen table. "What did you need my help with?"

Asteria set a thick book on the table. Still photographs of historical Muggles stared solemnly from the front cover. "I needed your help disguising this as another book—a Dark Arts book, maybe—and setting up some security enchantments. I thought we could use it for recruiting spies." She opened the book and flicked to a page she'd marked. "They read what Daphne and I have outlined for them, and if they understand the connection between our war and the Muggles' war, they'll pass the test."

Her mother lifted an eyebrow. "Interesting method."

"Good interesting or bad interesting?"

"Good. Very good," she said somewhat absently, then tore her gaze from the black-and-white photograph. "What kind of enchantments were you thinking of?"

Asteria started to explain, but three sharp raps at the back door stopped her. Frieda slammed the Muggle history book shut and banished it to the kitchen cupboard with a wave of her wand. She started for the door, but Samuel was already reaching for the knob.

"Be careful, dear. We don't know who it is."

"It wouldn't be Death Eaters," he said. "They always use the front."

"They might be Polyjuiced." Frieda spoke as the knock sounded again. Samuel opened the door to a man clothed in rags, shivering on the back step. His hood covered his hair and most of his face; Asteria could make out few details of his appearance. Silence and cold air filled the kitchen.

"Can I help you, sir?"

The man stepped into the snow, stooped over, and drew with shaking fingers. He stood back, and Asteria saw a wobbly triangle in the faint light. All eyes turned on her parents.

Frieda nudged her husband. They locked gazes, and she gave a little nod. Samuel waved his wand at the empty yard.

"_Homenum revelio." _

Nothing happened. Drawing a breath, Samuel stepped barefooted into the snow and drew with his finger. When he stood, the Star of David was etched in white.

At that, the man burst into tears, clasping Samuel in an embrace as Frieda erased the star with a flick of her wand. "Thank God," he sobbed. "Thank God."

* * *

Leftover soup was heated, poured into a bowl, and set before the Muggleborn. He hadn't said a word about his blood status, and he didn't need to. The four Greengrasses had already guessed at the truth. He poured out his story anyway—perhaps because he had finally found someone who would listen, Asteria reasoned.

"Put me on trial just last week," he said between bites. "I didn't register—wife and I both thought it was a bad idea—so I went on the run. Didn't want to leave the kids, but..." He shrugged, bowing his head, but not before Asteria saw tears glistening in his eyes. "Had to do what I had to do."

"Who caught you?" Frieda asked.

"Snatchers." He didn't raise his head. "Horrible. Crueler than Death Eaters, I'd say."

"Some of them are," Samuel said with a grimace. "I've met a few."

The man looked at Asteria's father. "Have you?"

"Yes. Not many, fortunately, but enough to make an impression." Samuel cleared his throat. "How did you find us?"

"Heard there was a family who helped us." Asteria knew who he meant. Muggleborns. "A Ministry man—Shaklebolt, was it? He gave me an address, told me what to do when I got here." His eyes filled again, and his voice became a whisper. "It wasn't a trick..."

Frieda stood and placed her palms on the table. "Girls, get to bed."

Asteria and Daphne headed for the stairs. Both girls paused when they rounded a corner, out of sight but not earshot, and listened in.

"We do not know your name," Frieda said, and Asteria pictured her mother raising a hand to cut off the man's answer. "We do not ask for one. It's safer this way, you see?"

"If we don't know your name, Veritaserum won't reveal it if the worst happens," Samuel explained.

"Precisely. With any luck, the worst will not happen, because we are careful. If you do everything we tell you, you should be safe until we can get you out of the country."

"But...I can't just _leave_. My family—"

"Should be safe for a while longer." Asteria heard a chair scrape the floor as her father stood. "If they come to us, we'll hide them, too."

"Come," Frieda said, and Asteria was struck by how weary she sounded. "I will show you where you are sleeping."

Not wanting to be seen, Asteria and Daphne hurried up the stairs.

* * *

_I know JKR didn't say much about religion in the wizarding world, but it seemed to fit with Asteria's family and her personality. If you'd like to hear my reasoning for why the Death Eaters don't approve of Judaism or Christianity, just PM me and I'd be happy to explain. :) _


	4. Letter Two

_Thanks to The Glowing Mischief, Ilovepi, Analie209, Ali Becker, L.A.H.H. and tenneyshoes for reviewing! _

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* * *

_

_That Christmas, like the rest of the year, wasn't the best. I wouldn't say it was the worst—Christmas '96 earns that dubious distinction—but it was pretty bad. The only that made it better, really, was learning Mum had turned traitor and deciding to join her. That little event might move Christmas '97 up the list of Top Ten Worst Christmases for some, but for me...it's difficult to explain. When I first agreed to help her, I did so because I thought she was in over her head. I volunteered because I didn't want her to get hurt. But hours later, as I lay in bed, repeating our conversation in my mind for the hundredth time, I started to feel better about the whole thing. Not like I could take on the world, but more settled, to be sure. I think it's because, for the first time in two years, I'd made a decision without the Dark Lord breathing down my neck. He had more or less controlled my entire existence up to that point; and now I was finally fighting back. _

_Of course, after that was settled, I still had three detentions to look forward to. You may ask why I dreaded them. I wasn't the one being tortured, after all; I was simply learning how to torture others. They deserved it, the Carrows said. All I had to do was keep that in mind, sit back and enjoy their pain. Unfortunately, that's where I ran into trouble. I knew what it felt like. Every time I tried to use the curse, I remembered the pain. A little longer, and I'd hear the Dark Lord saying the word, the other Death Eaters laughing as I screamed. _

_Empathy. The bane of any Unforgivable. _

_I must confess that I didn't think much of Asteria when she met me at the stairs leading to the dungeons. __We met two days after returning from the holidays. I think Alecto scheduled them that way so I'd have two extra days to dread those detentions, and so she and Amycus would have two extra days to rub it in. "Have fun with the little Ravenclaw," Alecto cackled. "That girl will teach you more than I ever could," Amycus sneered. I'd like to say their taunts didn't affect me, but they did. They saw me as a failure, and I accepted their vision as fact. _

_She greeted me with a smile. "Shall we head to the dungeons?" _

_I could only stare at her. Here we were, about to torture our fellow students, and she acted as though we were on our way to a picnic. In a way, she reminded me of Aunt Bella; she was so nonchalant about it. But Bellatrix was never that cheerful, and I never saw a glint of mischief in her eyes before she tortured someone. The parallels between the two weren't perfect, and that made me angry. I don't know why. _

_Asteria made idle chitchat as she led the way. Rather, she tried; I didn't feel much for conversation. _

_"So how was your Christmas?" _

_"It was all right." _

_"Just all right?" _

_"Yeah." _

_She turned a corner. "I can't believe how much homework we had over the holiday. Seems a bit unfair, don't you think? I know it's important we learn this stuff, but it _is _Christmas. Did you get as much homework as we did?" _

_"I wouldn't know." _

_"You'd get more than we would, I think. Since this is your last year and everything. Of course, we have OWLs to prepare for...Oh! Here we are!" She paused just long enough to open the iron-barred door. I nearly tripped when I saw who was chained to the wall. _

_Ordinarily, getting Ginny Weasley for a detention was no big deal. She was a blood traitor, and got detentions pretty often. But agreeing to help Mum spy for the Order sort of made Ginny an ally, though I was the only one of us who knew it. Had it just been me, I would've done poorly as usual—which would only have delayed the inevitable, as one of the Carrows would have come along to finish the job. But there I was, stuck with one of the best torturers in the school, and no way to stop her without tipping my hand. _

_"Are you all right?" she asked, laughing. "You're white as a sheet." _

_I felt myself starting to sway and grabbed the door to keep from falling. I couldn't do this. I needed to get out of there, but I was trapped. I felt like the entire school was falling down on top of me, and I could only wait helplessly as I was crushed. _

_Asteria put a hand on my shoulder, then checked my forehead as if I had a fever. Her hand was cool—probably from the chill of the dungeons. "Hey," she said, and I looked into her eyes. Big and blue, wide with concern, like their owner actually cared that I'd nearly collapsed. Until then, I'd only seen Mum's eyes look like that. I couldn't understand why hers would look the same way. "It's okay," she whispered. _

_I tried to breathe normally. "Just let me out of here." _

_She ran her hand down my arm. "Not until I show you something." _

_"I don't want to see it." _

_"How do you know?" Asteria smiled. "You haven't seen it yet." She walked a few paces, stood in front of Ginny and tapped her wand against her palm. "This is how it works. I'll yell 'Crucio,' and you will scream. You will not attempt some sort of protest by remaining silent. And I know you. You like to think you can keep from screaming, but if you try, it will not bode well for you." _

_Ginny didn't seem the least bit frightened by this speech. Nor did she seem angry. She didn't call Asteria names or dare her to bring the Carrows. Instead, she looked at me, then Asteria, with a curious expression. _

_Asteria gave me a gentle smile, then slipped Ginny a wink. She glanced both directions, then pointed her wand at the ceiling. "Crucio!" _

_Ginny screamed. _

_I couldn't comprehend it. Asteria Greengrass, most notorious student torturer after Crabbe and Goyle, wasn't torturing someone? Her wand wasn't aimed at Ginny at all, and yet the Weasley girl's screams were loud enough to fool anyone. I just stared, wondering if I was dreaming. _

_After a minute or two, Ginny stopped screaming and opened her eyes. A smile twitched her lips. I glanced at her for only a moment; it was Asteria who interested me. _

_She lowered her wand, grinning, and joined me at the door. Her blue eyes twinkled. "There," she said, loud enough for the Carrows to hear. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" _


	5. Asteria, Part Three

_Thank you to Ali Becker, L.A.H.H., tenneyshoes, Analie209, Lupine Moon, The Glowing Mischief, crazy's wat i am 4 and RavenclawRebel for the reviews!_

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* * *

_

For the second detention, a student Asteria didn't know was chained to the wall. She felt the familiar fear of a new challenge—namely, the fear that this student would be less than cooperative. Gryffindors were notoriously stubborn when faced with adversity.

He sneered at them both. "I'm not afraid of you. Either of you." An especially nasty glance at Draco finished off his statement.

Asteria gave her most sadistic smile. She'd spent much of her afternoon in the prefects' bathroom, practicing that smile in front of a mirror. "I believe that will change, don't you, Malfoy?"

"Er, of course." He still sounded uncertain. They would have to work on that.

The Gryffindor laughed. "Oh, look who's finally jumped on the wagon! Worst torturer in the school! 'Bout time you got a tutor, is it?"

"That's what I'm here for," Asteria said. "Show him the ropes." She tapped her wand against her palm, praying he'd heard the rumors. "This is how it works. When I say 'Crucio,' you will scream. You will not try to spite me by remaining silent, or things will go very badly for you. Do I make myself clear?"

He glared at her, and Asteria suppressed a sigh. This would not be easy.

She pointed her wand at the wall, a foot above his head. "_Crucio_!"

No scream answered the curse; only sullen confusion.

Asteria glanced over her shoulder. Draco had paled another shade, but there was no sign of the Carrows. "A stubborn one, eh? Still too brave, are we?" She tried again, aiming to his right this time. "_Crucio_!"

The Gryffindor's confusion deepened. Heart pounding, Asteria raised her voice to a shriek and pointed her wand at the floor. "Scream, damn you! _Crucio_!"

Finally, understanding lit his eyes, and his scream filled the dungeon. When it faded, he looked at her with a mixture of awe and questioning: a look that sought her approval.

She smiled, and her relief showed on her face. "There. That's better."

* * *

Alecto seemed pleased when she saw the Gryffindor slumped against the wall, eyes closed. She put her hands on her hips. "Marvelous work, Greengrass, as usual. Learning much, are we?" she asked Draco.

He nodded. "She's...really good."

Asteria twirled her wand between her fingers, making Alecto laugh.. "Such _flair_ for a Ravenclaw! You'll teach Draco a thing or two." A glare at the blond accompanied her prediction.

"He still needs practice," Asteria said quickly, and felt both Draco and Alecto stare at her. She felt a pang of guilt for speaking about him as if he wasn't there, but had learned it was safest to follow the Carrows' lead when it came to addressing her fellow students.

"That's what tomorrow's detention is for," Alecto said.

"Beyond that." She felt heat rise to her cheeks and hoped it didn't show. "Not in detentions, necessarily, but with the curse in general. I thought...maybe...I could tutor him on the theory as well?"

Alecto seemed taken aback. Asteria held her breath as she watched her teacher turn it over in her mind. "I guess he needs all the practice he can get," she said slowly.

"Wonderful! Where shall we meet?"

"I'll let you work out the details. Let me know by tomorrow."

Asteria kept her smile in place until Alecto was safely out of earshot; then she unchained the Gryffindor's wrists. His eyes snapped open.

"God," he said in awe. "You were awful."

She laughed softly. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should. I-I've never seen anyone act that way who didn't mean it."

"He's right, you know." Draco had knelt on the other side of the Gryffindor, facing her. "I can see why the Carrows like you."

"Again, I'll take that as a compliment." She addressed the Gryffindor. "Don't go back to your common room too early. Twenty minutes should do it. Fifteen if you walk slow."

"But...won't it be past curfew by then?"

"Yes." She removed a scrap of parchment from her pocket and slipped it into his hand. "Here's a list of places the Carrows don't frequent. You can hide in one of those, if they try to get you for being out late."

He nodded, then threw a glance at the door. "I hope you don't get in trouble."

"Trouble? Why would I get in trouble?"

The Gryffindor's slight tilt of the head and pointed glance weren't missed by Asteria—or Draco, who drew back sharply, visibly affronted. Asteria answered as calmly as she could.

"I volunteered to show him the ropes," she said, then forced a smile. "I didn't say which ropes I'd be showing him, if you catch my drift." She met Draco's gaze. "And I also believe he's still in the room."

Draco smiled ever so slightly, and the Gryffindor was silent. Asteria patted his shoulder.

"Call me a few names when you get back to Gryffindor, will you?" She stood, and Draco stood with her. "And be careful. You may not get either of us for your next detention." They left him slumped against the wall and strode down a corridor. A moment later, Draco pulled her into an unoccupied cell.

"What was that?" he hissed.

"What was what?"

"'You may not get _us_ for your next detention'? What were you thinking?" His face was mere inches from hers, and her heart pounded against her ribs.

Asteria laughed, but it sounded false to her own ears. "I thought you'd enjoy faking it."

Draco pulled away, and Asteria found she could breathe again. He walked a few paces, then faced her. "I do—sort of—but do you honestly expect me to _volunteer_ for this?"

She blinked, knowing she could never tell him she had. "No, I expect you to fake it if you're ever _assigned_ to do a detention. I didn't say anything about volunteering."

"That's what _you_ do."

"Yes, because I know it will be a thousand times worse for them if I don't." She stepped toward him. "And I volunteered to teach you because I could tell you didn't like the curse much in the first place."

Draco stared at her. "How?"

Asteria hesitated, then shrugged. "You can always tell."

He looked down, hand braced against the wall. "I reckon the Carrows can, then..." He sighed. "So. Tutoring. Where are we meeting?"

He sounded so defeated that for a moment Asteria wanted to say there would be no tutoring; it was just something she told Alecto to make her happy; she would go to their teacher tomorrow and call it off. But she knew Alecto would only become suspicious if she did, and the rest of her plan wouldn't work if her contact with Draco remained limited. "I don't know yet. I'll talk to the Carrows tomorrow, see if they'd go for my common room."

His brows furrowed. "Ravenclaw?"

"No, Hufflepuff. Of course we'll be in Ravenclaw. If the Carrows agree, that is," she added quickly.

Draco nodded, still gazing at the floor. The silence grew brittle; Asteria shuffled her feet nervously.

"We'd best be getting to bed."

Again he nodded. She had her palm against the door, ready to push it open, when his whisper made her jump.

"You wouldn't happen to have a copy of that list, would you?"

Asteria hesitated, realizing her mistake. Malfoy might be despised by the Carrows, but he was still a Death Eater—one who obviously needed to gain the Carrows' favor. She should have waited until he'd left, then slipped the list to the Gryffindor. Drawing a breath, she spoke carefully.

"I don't have another copy with me," she said. He didn't need to know that she had the list memorized. "Maybe...if tutoring you on the theory goes well...I could slip you a copy?" She flashed a coy smile, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

He paused, looking away. She didn't know what he'd say, but she could tell he wasn't pleased with the idea. Finally, he nodded. "Sure. During tutoring."

"All right, then. See you tomorrow." Asteria smiled again, then hurried out of the dungeons. The cell door banged shut behind her.


	6. Asteria, Part Four

_Thanks to Ali Becker, The Glowing Mischief and L.A.H.H. for the reviews!_

_I've gotten several anonymous reviews asking for my explanation as to why the Death Eaters don't approve of Judaism or Christianity. Since I can't reply to those (obviously) and my explanation is a bit wordy, I intend to work it into the story. I don't plan to preach through the characters, but it will be there all the same._

* * *

The third detention passed without incident. The student, a Ravenclaw two years below Asteria, had heard the rumors and knew the code. When Asteria began her speech with "This is how it works," the girl sat up and smiled a bit. Her screams were enough to fool the Carrows, but not so loud they could be heard in Ravenclaw Tower. "Good work," Asteria whispered when it was over. "Remember: not a word to anyone."

The girl rubbed her wrists where the chains had been. "Pity the others can't know. It must be hard, having everyone in the common room glare at you."

Asteria sighed, wishing she hadn't brought that up—especially after her earlier conversation with Alecto. She stood, gave her the usual warnings to be careful and keep up the insults, then led Draco out of the cell. "Come to Ravenclaw Tower tomorrow at ten o'clock. Entrance is on the fifth floor. The door will ask you a question."

"Alecto went for your suggestion, then."

"She was _thrilled_."

"Of course she was." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't believe you suggested it."

Asteria shrugged. "It won't be that bad. All you'll need to do is nod while I prattle on about the theory behind the curse."

He nodded, and she smiled, touching his arm reassuringly. She left him in the dungeon, muttering about a perfectly good Saturday going to waste.

* * *

As ten o'clock neared, Asteria found it increasingly difficult to keep still. She set quills and parchment on a table, along with her Dark Arts book. When that failed to ease her nerves, she stood and paced, watching the clock the way she'd seen Amycus Carrow watch Neville Longbottom. Michael Corner saw the two quills on the table and frowned.

"More tutoring, Greengrass?"

All members of Dumbledore's Army knew why Asteria volunteered for detentions, and all likely suspected she had ulterior motives in teaching Malfoy the finer points of the Cruciatus Curse. No doubt some of them had already guessed at her plan. Despite this, Michael's slightly raised eyebrows and hint of frost in his tone told her that her fellow Ravenclaws would not be amused by the next phase of her strategy. "Yes, Corner, it's more tutoring."

"Your favorite subject, I presume?"

She forced a smile. "What else?"

Michael came forward, folding his arms over the back of a chair. "And I assume it's another Ravenclaw that has accepted your generous offer?"

Asteria willed herself to remain calm. She could explain everything at the next DA meeting. "I only have one student, Corner."

He straightened, hazel eyes widening. "You didn't."

"Where else were we to meet?"

"The library, or anywhere else. You could have met in his common room—I'm sure the Slytherins would love to have you!"

Heads turned as Michael's voice rose; quiet conversations died altogether. "What's going on here?" Cale, Asteria's fellow prefect, approached from the dormitories.

"Oh, nothing of import. Greengrass has only invited a Death Eater to our common room."

Cale turned on her, eyes wide, mouth gaping. "How could you? Greengrass, you know the position our House is in!"

"Can't you see I'm trying to change that? I have bought Ravenclaw some _respect_—"

"And you think we want it from _them_?" Cale pointed angrily at the floor, roughly the direction of the Slytherin common room. "We have Houses for a reason."

"Oh? And what might that be, Mahler?" Asteria folded her arms. "To keep us segregated from those who might teach us?"

"Yes—if that teacher is a bloody Death Eater!"

"In case you haven't noticed,_ I_ am teaching _him_—"

"And what does that say about you, hmm?" Trudy Alden, a girl in Asteria's year, had joined the fray. "That our little Asteria knows more about the Cruciatus Curse than a Death Eater does?"

"I can't help it if I'm talented."

Trudy and Cale had more to say, but a loud knock silenced them both. All heads turned toward the door as the airy voice spoke. "What is wickedness?"

Asteria glanced at the clock. Ten o'clock precisely. "That's him."

"Fancy giving a Death Eater that question," Michael muttered.

Trudy sniffed. "He'll get that one wrong." She cast a glare at Asteria. "At least the knocker has some sense."

Silence settled over the common room like snow. The seconds ticked away, and Asteria prayed he would get it right. Trudy and Cale wouldn't allow her near the door, and any other Ravenclaw who happened to find Malfoy in the stairwell would likely answer the question, slip inside, and slam the door in his face. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until Malfoy answered, slowly and thoughtfully.

"I guess...I guess that wickedness—evil, you might say—is a renunciation of good, the same way good is a renunciation of evil?"

"Well reasoned," the voice said, and the door opened to a surprised but pleased-looking Malfoy. Cale rolled his eyes, Michael stormed off, and Trudy turned away in disgust.

"Have fun with your _friend_," she spat, then stalked through the door and down the stairs. Asteria met him with a smile, hoping it didn't appear as shaky as she felt.

"You made it," she said, leading him to the quills and parchment, positioned on a table between two high-backed chairs. By the time she took her seat, the common room was empty. Pretending not to notice, she thumbed through her schoolbook to the chapter on Unforgivables. If Draco didn't comment on the empty room, she wouldn't mention it.

"Do they always do that?"

Asteria looked up. "Do who always do what?"

"Them. Your Housemates. Do they always...leave like that?"

She shrugged, feigning indifference. "Sometimes." Finding the page she wanted, she plunked the book down on the table, picked up a quill and shifted a piece of parchment so it was within easy reach. "Now. Theory of Unforgivables. The whole theory behind Unforgivables is that you have to _want_ them to happen. Their strength is tied to the will of the caster."

"I know all that. Amycus covered it in class, remember?"

"Yes, but I thought we'd review." She dipped her quill and wrote: _I know you know all this. I'm just rambling. _

Draco read her message, took up the other quill, and responded. _Why? _

_So we can actually talk to each other._

He gave her a sardonic look. You _want to talk to _me.

_Why else would I go to all the trouble of arranging to "tutor" you in my common room?_

Sighing, he sat back and ran a hand through his hair. _You obviously wanted to talk to me about something specific. What is it? _

Asteria dipped her quill again, stalling for time. She hadn't expected him to get to the point so early. _You wanted the list. Why? _Turning the parchment toward him, she smiled. "There. An outline of strength vs. willpower. That should help."

_I don't think anyone is listening. _

_They might be. I want to keep us safe. Hence the rambling about a curse I've never actually used. _

He frowned. _You've never actually used it? _

_Of course not. I figured out how to fake it before my first assigned detention, and it worked so well I had to continue. _She smiled wryly, and was pleased when he returned it.

_So why are we doing this again? Since it's obvious your Housemates don't want me here and we would both rather be somewhere else._

Asteria paused, flicking through the pages of her schoolbook as she considered her answer. _For the same reason I volunteer for detentions. _

_What reason is that?_

_I told you night before last. _

_Because if you don't, things will only get worse for those you pretend to torture? _

She met his gaze. "Yes," she said softly. "That's exactly it."


	7. Letter Three

_Thanks to L.A.H.H., Analie209, and The Glowing Mischief for the reviews!_

* * *

_As far as tutoring went, the original plan was to meet twice a week—Saturday and Sunday mornings—so neither of us would fall behind on our homework. But after the second session, Asteria told the Carrows she thought I might benefit from more frequent meetings, so we also met on Wednesday evenings. I came to enjoy those mornings and evenings with her. Minutes became hours, and before I knew it, lunch was being served or curfew was moments away. (You'll remember hearing that Quidditch games were suspended for the year after the first match where Gryffindor beat Slytherin to a pulp, and not a little bloodshed resulted from that. I would've been pretty steamed about both the match and the suspension of further matches, but I had a lot more to worry about that year.) _

_The first few weeks we met, it was the same. I'd answer the door's question, empty out the common room, and spend the rest of the time pretending to copy Asteria's notes or listen to her rambling as we wrote messages to each other. We covered all of those mundane topics people discuss when they're getting to know each other: hobbies, interests, favorite and least favorite classes, etc. I was a bit surprised when Asteria wrote me that first note, asking me for my favorite class, and I confess I asked her (a bit curtly, but on paper it didn't necessarily seem that way) why on earth she needed to know. 'I thought we should get to know each other,' she wrote back with a smile. 'You can only chat so much in the torture chambers.' _

_Detentions also continued, with Asteria following along as a guide. Although I knew the code and the proper technique for faking the Curse, she warned me not to "improve" too quickly. "It'll be better, in the end, if it seems to happen slowly. You can't go from being a terrible torturer to the best in the school overnight." She said it with a smile, but even the mention of torture gave me a chill. I tried not to shudder._

_I followed her instructions, and the Carrows praised the strides I was making toward mastering the Curse. My Housemates commented on it, too. "Learning much from little Greengrass?" Crabbe said. "I hear Ravenclaws are the best teachers." Pansy didn't try to hide her disdain. _

_"My sister can't help it if she has more talent in her little finger than you have in your whole body, Parkinson," Daphne said. Pansy put her hands on her hips. _

_"She's fifteen and a Ravenclaw. You honestly think a Ravenclaw can have a better grasp of Unforgivables than a Slytherin?" _

_"I notice Amycus didn't choose _you_ to tutor him." _

_"Your dear sister volunteered." _

_"I would have liked to hear his answer if you had volunteered first." _

_As much as I liked having Daphne stick up for me, I also had homework. I headed for the library, the argument still in full swing when I ducked through the portrait hole. _

_Before returning to Hogwarts, Mum had instructed me to learn the Patronus Charm. That was how she sent all those messages to the Order and to _Potterwatch_, and since I'd agreed to help her, I needed to master the Charm, too. The only trouble was finding a safe place away from the Carrows where I could practice. _

_Easier said than done. _

_It goes without saying that the library, the Slytherin common room and all of the classrooms were out of the question. The Room of Requirement—which I had used all the previous year for the task the Dark Lord gave me—was locked half the time, and the rest of the time I couldn't get up there without arousing suspicion. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was a possibility; I figured I could use Muffliato and have Myrtle warn me if anyone approached. But I didn't trust her not to tell the other ghosts out of sheer pride for having kept a secret. That left the dungeons as my only option. _

_I rose early, long after the last detention had been completed, long before the first class began. Muffliato took care of the noise; Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder hid the flashes of silver as I repeatedly failed the charm. For it to work, you have to focus on a happy thought. At first I thought about helping Mum defeat the Dark Lord, about things going back to the way they were. That's when darker thoughts crept in: Mum getting caught by you or Aunt Bella; me giving the Order erroneous information that got everyone killed; one of my Housemates or the Carrows finding me in the dungeons, practicing the Patronus Charm. The last thought proved so powerful that I crept back to bed and didn't use the dungeons for practice again._

You seem worried, _Asteria wrote during the next tutoring session in her common room. _

I'm fine, _I wrote back. _

Really.

Yes, really.

_We looked at each other, and I knew she didn't believe me. Fortunately, she let the topic drop. _

_"I brought a Dark Arts book from home," she said aloud. "I think it'll help you." _

_"Oh. Okay...what's it on?" _

_She lifted a leather-bound volume from her school bag and dropped it on the table with a heavy thud. "_Practical Applications of the Dark Arts_. Some of them are quite funny. There's one curse that makes your enemy unable to speak anything but perfect Swedish before their vocal cords disintegrate." I marveled at her ability to speak about such gruesome effects so casually. She had probably practiced that delivery in front of a mirror, the same way she practiced her twisted smiles before doing a detention._

You'll need a password to see the pages, _she wrote._ Otherwise, there'll only be blank parchment.

What's the password?

_Asteria glanced over her shoulder, but the common room was empty. _It's a spell.

What's the spell?

Ostendo astrum. Wait until you're alone to read it.

Why?

_She hesitated. _If the Carrows ever learned what's really in it, they wouldn't be happy.

_I wanted to read it right then and there, but decided to wait until the rest of my dormitory was asleep. It would be safer that way. I tucked the book into my school bag and was about to bid her goodnight when she tugged on my sleeve. _

Draco?

Yes?

Before you read it, there's something you need to know about me.

What's that?

_She bent over the parchment, her brown hair shielding it like a curtain. She straightened and, with a small, nervous smile, turned the page toward me. I nearly fell out of my chair. Two words lay etched on the page—two words that, under the right circumstances, could send her to Azkaban. _

I'm Jewish.


	8. Asteria, Part Five

_Thanks to the following reviewers: The Glowing Mischief, L.A.H.H., tenneyshoes, Analie209 and RavenclawRebel! _

* * *

The next three days dragged by, a torturous three days of worry. Asteria's Housemates left her alone with thoughts she'd rather not ponder, and Draco's words swirled through her mind like a storm.

_You can't be, _he'd written.

_Well, I am. _

He had drawn back, grasped a handful of his hair, and written again, tearing the parchment in places. _Do you know what the Carrows think of Jews? What the Dark Lord thinks of them? After the stunt they pulled this autumn... Have you any idea what would happen if the Carrows found out? _

_I'd be expelled. I know. _

_Worse than that! Death or Azkaban—that's the price for dissent! Why would you tell me? _

The two words sent a chill through her, but she steadied her hand. _You needed to know._

Once again, he sat back, exhaling slowly. Asteria wrote quickly. _  
_

_Would you just read the book? _

Other Ravenclaws began filing into the common room, cutting a wide swath around Asteria's table. Draco stood abruptly and stormed through the door. Cale raised an eyebrow.

"Not his standard exit. Is your tutoring a bit much for him, Greengrass?"

Asteria had gathered their notes, stacking them carefully as though she intended to save them. "He'll be back," she said with more conviction than she felt.

"Pity. And here I thought you'd finally scared him off."

For once, she was grateful Draco was two years above her. However, that didn't stop him from crossing her path. In the Great Hall, he stared straight ahead. In the corridors, he pretended not to see her. Asteria felt a fresh pang of fear whenever she glimpsed him changing course for the opposite side of the castle.

He wouldn't tell the Carrows, she decided. He wasn't like them. If he were, he wouldn't have gotten angry. He wouldn't have told her, unwittingly, where so many of her friends had gone.

What if he had no choice?

The thought entered her mind before she could stop it, and her dread rose. If he were under an Unbreakable Vow, and he_ had_ to tell the Carrows or the Headmaster when he learned of suspicious goings-on...

On Friday, he tapped her shoulder. "Are we still meeting tomorrow?"

Asteria caught her breath, spun around and swallowed. "A-are we?"

"I asked you."

She took a deep breath. "Unless you have something else going on."

"No, nothing else." He brushed a few strands of hair from his eyes, then dug a book out of his bag. "Thought I'd return this."

Asteria took it. "You finished it?"

"The part you marked for me." His mouth lifted slightly, grimly. "Interesting read."

With that, he walked away. Asteria tucked the book into her bag and hurried off.

* * *

Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was one of the safer places in Hogwarts: neither other students nor the Carrows were fond of her screeching and wailing, so they gave her door a wide berth.

"Who is it?" Myrtle called as Asteria entered.

"Just me. Came to read, if that's all right."

"Of course you came to read," Myrtle sniffed. "Why should I think you came for a visit?"

Asteria pulled the door shut. "I could go read with someone else. There are other students and ghosts, you know."

The ghost came through the stall door to peer at her. "How long will you stay?"

"I have a while before my next class."

Myrtle gave another sniff. "Fine. Stay, if you must." She dived back into the toilet, and Asteria let out a breath as she sank to the floor. She took the book from her bag and tapped the cover with her wand.

"_Ostendo astrum,_" she whispered. The Star of David appeared on the cover, glowing faint gold, and she traced it reverently with her finger. Heart pounding, she opened the cover and flipped to the pages she'd marked. WORLD WAR TWO was written at the top of the page in bold black letters. Beside that, in her handwriting: _Read and respond to the text. _

Asteria took a breath. Draco had read it. The next few pages would contain his response, but she could only guess what that response would be. Harsh, bitter responses came to her mind—responses that, she realized with a start, Draco had every right to make.

Myrtle's voice cut through her reverie. "Are you going to read that page or just look at it?"

Heart racing, Asteria turned the page.

* * *

Usually, Asteria began their tutoring sessions with a bit of chitchat, followed by rambling about the Dark Arts, then note-passing mixed with the former two activities. This time, she didn't bother. She scribbled a question immediately and passed Draco the parchment, tapping her foot softly on the thick rug as he read it.

_What did you think of the book? _

He wrote slowly, carefully. _I think I made my opinion quite clear. _

_Three dozen exclamation points do not an opinion make. _

Draco smiled slightly. _I used more than that. _

_Not that they were unwarranted, of course. If you think about it, Hitler's actions were quite shocking. _

_I can't stop thinking about it. _He drew back, quill poised above the page for a full minute before continuing his thought. _Hitler—he's not so different from the Dark Lord, is he? _

Asteria's heart leapt. Did he understand the way she'd hoped he would? _No, not really. One is a very powerful wizard, and the other was a very powerful Muggle. _She paused, considering her words. _When the truth of Hitler's atrocities came to light, the Muggle world was outraged. "Never again," they said. It didn't matter if the intended victims were Jewish or not. _

Draco stared at her answer, blinking once or twice. Asteria held her breath, waiting. Please, God, she prayed, Let him see. Let him hear. Let him understand.

_This is personal for you, isn't it? _

_I can't sit idly by while innocent people are killed, Kissed or doomed to Azkaban. _

He sat back again, chewing his lip. _Why tell me this, Asteria? What can either of us possibly do? _

_The Holocaust didn't end because the Allies focused solely on liberating those camps. It ended when the war did, when Hitler's power was broken and his forces had been stopped. And in Nazi Germany and other occupied zones, underground resistance was quite strong. _

_Didn't the book say ninety percent of Germans supported the Nazi regime? _

_Yes, but there were still those Germans—some of them good, pureblooded Aryans—who saw that man for what he was and did everything within their power to stop him. They fought his influence wherever they could, and as much as they were able, kept their neighbors from harm. _

She looked up at the same moment he did. His grey eyes held hers for a minute; then he put quill to parchment again.

_I know what you're asking me. It won't work. _

_Why not? You're a powerful ally. And if I'm not mistaken, you dislike the Carrows as much as the next Gryffindor. _

_The other members won't go for it. _

_How do you know? You haven't spoken to them. _

_And I assume you plan to speak to them for me. _

_Only if you agree. _

Once again, his response was a moment in coming. It felt like hours. _Very well then. _

_You'll let me? _

He smiled wryly. _Last I checked, I didn't control your actions. _

She couldn't help smiling in return. _I'll talk to Neville tomorrow. _

Draco caught his breath when he read that, but when he leaned back in his chair, he seemed more relaxed. He nodded, a small smile curving his lips.

"All right, then," Asteria said, setting a book on the table. "Now that we've got our notes all in order, let's move on to the rest of our tutoring."


	9. Asteria, Part Six

_Thank you to tenneyshoes, L.A.H.H., SecretPain121208, hardestofhearts and Analie209 for the reviews! _

* * *

Neville flicked through the pages of notes—transcripts of Asteria's most recent conversation with Draco, she thought—and looked up at her. "So you want him to join, is that it?"

"We could use an ally in his position." She glanced at her sister. "Our connections only go so far."

Neville lifted an eyebrow. "You do remember it's Malfoy we're talking about."

Asteria rolled her eyes. "No, of course not. I've spent the last three weeks tutoring a boy whose name I can't remember."

With a sigh, he slammed the parchment on a table that suddenly materialized. "Enough with the sarcasm, Asteria. You know what I mean."

Daphne folded her arms, leaning against a wall. "Meaning you won't have a Death Eater join our cause, no matter how useful he may be."

Ernie Macmillan placed his palms on the table. "Useful or not, he's still a Death Eater. Still in league with the Carrows. You _want_ him spilling our secrets?"

"He may be in league with the Carrows, Ernie, but the Carrows aren't in league with him."

Neville crossed his arms. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Asteria glanced at her sister, who gave a nod. "I've seen the way they treat him. He doesn't have it any better than you do." She drew a breath, ignoring the heat of Neville's glare and the eyes of Dumbledore's Army upon her. "All Draco needs is a push in the right direction, a little encouragement...and we'll have him."

"For how long?" Michael Corner stood. "A few weeks, at best?"

"As long as we need him."

Parvati Patil lifted an eyebrow. "And you know this _how_?"

"I...I don't. Not for sure. But I'm reasonably certain—"

"Reasonably." Parvati drew out the word. "She's reasonably certain that a Death Eater, who has no love for anyone in this room, won't betray us to the Carrows—who also happen to be his allies. Seems a bit flimsy to me, don't you think, Padma?"

Daphne rolled her eyes, speaking before Parvati's twin could answer. "Give it a rest, will you? If I'm not mistaken, Malfoy has kept another juicy secret of ours to himself."

Ginny looked from Asteria to Daphne and back again, her growing panic evident on her face. "Which secret?"

"It isn't the coins, if that's what you're worried about." Daphne lifted a brow at her sister. "Ter?"

Asteria drew a breath. "He knows Daphne and I are Jewish."

Neville slapped the table, quieting the murmurs that had rippled through the Room of Requirement. "Blimey, Greengrass, why'd you tell him?"

"He had to know."

"He could have gotten you expelled for that!" Neville gripped the edge of the table, jaw clenched, then looked up at her in horror. "You didn't tell him—?"

"No."

"Not yet, anyway." Daphne's remark drew an astounded gasp from both Neville and Ginny. She responded with a shrug. "Well, she's got to tell him sometime, doesn't she?"

The murmurs began again in earnest, growing in volume until Neville pounded the table.

"That's enough," he said, then exhaled. "Asteria. Malfoy wants to join, does he?"

"That's what he said." Not in so many words, but the point was the same.

"You will be his contact, then. He'll receive his information and assignments through you. If he speaks to any other members, his interaction will be limited—" Neville's shoulders sagged, and he bowed his head. "You're making a face." With a sigh, he raised it. "All right. What don't you like about my plan?"

"Everything."

"Can you be more specific?"

Asteria sighed, lifting her hands in exasperation. "It's..._mean_, all right? Your plan is mean."

"Well, so is Malfoy," Padma Patil said. Murmurs of assent followed, and Asteria looked to her sister for help. Daphne shrugged, and Asteria suppressed a sigh.

"All right, Neville. Let's not accept him. Let's leave him out in the cold, stuck with two teachers who hate him and no chance of fighting back." Asteria placed her palms on the table, meeting Neville's gaze. "What did you say, when you first decided to revive this merry band of misfits? 'We need to protect all students, at all times, at all costs'? Last I checked, Malfoy was still a student here."

She dared a glance at Daphne. Her sister's blue eyes twinkled, and she had difficulty hiding a smile.

"She has a point," Seamus Finnigan said. "I've seen Malfoy in the dungeons before, after failing a detention. If Amycus was about to forgive him, then I'm a bleedin' Muggle."

"Still, Asteria, what you're proposing is dangerous. _Beyond_ dangerous. It's—it's downright insane!"

Ginny touched Neville's arm. "So are you, Neville."

A long moment of silence filled the Room of Requirement. At the end of it, Neville looked at Asteria. She drilled him with a stare, matching his gaze in intensity.

"Either he's in or he's out, Neville," she said quietly. "If we want Malfoy as our ally, we'll have to treat him like one."

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"We'll put it to a vote. All in favor of accepting Malfoy, raise your hands."

Roughly half the hands shot up; a few were raised more tentatively.

"All opposed?"

Asteria silently counted the votes, and Neville did the same. Her heart gave a leap. If she wasn't mistaken...

Neville finished his count and heaved a sigh. "You got your wish, Ter." He turned to her with a weary smile. "Looks like he's in."

* * *

Draco said little as Asteria led him up twisting staircases, through one corridor after another. Once she motioned him against the wall as Pansy Parkinson turned down an intersecting corridor, and once she pulled him into an unoccupied classroom but didn't close the door. Snape halted at the mouth of the corridor, and for a terrifying second Asteria was certain he saw them both. She had just begun forming her excuse when Snape turned and continued on his course. Breathing a sigh of relief, she took Draco's wrist and led him in the opposite direction.

Reaching the Room of Requirement, she paced three times. _I need to see Neville. I need to get to the DA meeting. _

A simple wooden door appeared. Asteria smiled at Draco, who drew back a step.

"Will it let me in?"

She laughed. "Of course it will. You're with me, and Neville gave you permission." Taking his wrist, she pulled him through.

Inside, a few dozen students sat in chairs or took the ones that appeared, pulling them toward their friends. Heads raised as Asteria entered the room; more snapped up when those who saw Draco nudged their friends. By the time Asteria took one of two empty seats, her cheeks burned with the heat of thirty stares. Draco swore under his breath.

"I thought you said I was in," he whispered.

"You are."

He turned in his chair. Some of those seated nearby met his gaze; others turned their interest elsewhere. "You said they put it to a vote?"

"Yes," she said, suddenly wishing she hadn't mentioned that part. Draco thought it over for a moment, then sank in his chair.

"Must've been a close vote."

"It was in your favor."

Heads turned as Neville came to the front of the room. A table appeared before him—not high enough to hide him, but tall enough to create a barrier between him and the other students. "All right, everyone, let's get started. Glad you all could make it." His quick smile faded when his gaze rested on the newest member. "I see our newest member, Draco Malfoy, could make it as well."

Asteria placed what she hoped was a reassuring hand on Draco's shoulder. He tensed, but didn't move away.

"Now then." Neville came around to the other side of the table and leaned against it. "Does anyone have any news?"

The group was silent until Asteria cleared her throat.

"Yes? Teri?"

"I was waiting in Amycus' office the other day, and I overheard him talking to Snape. I couldn't make out much of what they said, but the gist of it was that they think more detentions are in order."

Groans answered this bit of information.

"You and Daphne will sign up to fake them, I trust?"

"Of course."

Draco's hand drifted upward.

"You needn't raise your hand, Malfoy. Did you have a question?"

"No. Just adding to what Asteria was saying..." He cleared his throat nervously. "If _my_ impression of their plan is correct, they'll begin changing the nature of detentions for many students."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning they won't stop with the Cruciatus Curse."

Neville exhaled slowly. "Wonderful. Any suggestions for _avoiding_ that sort of detention?"

Draco chewed his lip for a moment. "Well...as I'm sure you know, time is one of the only remedies for torture."

"I was aware."

"Then you'll also know that the healing of smaller bodily wounds—cuts, bruises and the like—is slowed by the Cruciatus Curse."

"What is your point, Malfoy?"

Draco inhaled. "Since many of you are forbidden from visiting the hospital wing, I suggest you learn some simple healing spells and potions to minimize the potential for permanent injury or impairment."

Asteria stared at him, knowing she wasn't the only one. This was his first meeting with the DA, and he'd already given more practical advice than some of the more seasoned members. She glanced at Neville and could almost see the wheels turning in his mind.

"You're good at Potions."

"Yes."

"And the Carrows wouldn't be suspicious if you developed an interest in healing?"

"I could ensure they didn't," he said after a pause.

"Will you?"

"If you want me to."

"If what you say is true, it'll be less of a want and more of a need before too long."

"All right then."

"You'll do it?"

Draco gave a nod. "Sure."

Neville blinked. "Okay...it appears we have that settled. Er...moving on...is there any defensive spell we need to cover? One somebody is having trouble with?"

Draco raised his hand again. Asteria bit back a smile. So, apparently, did Neville.

"Yes, Malfoy?"

He lowered his hand, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Can anyone here cast a Patronus?"


	10. Letter Four

_Thank you to Analie209, hardestofhearts, ilovepi, The Glowing Mischief and L.A.H.H. for the wonderful reviews! _

* * *

_When I asked if anyone knew how to cast a Patronus, I honestly wasn't expecting a response. Not a nice one, anyway; at best, I thought Neville would wait a minute, let the room go all silent, then ask if anyone did. Of course, no one would; they were just a bunch of students, after all, and as their leader, Neville would want to drive that fact home. _

_How very wrong I was. _

_No sooner had I asked the question than a dozen or so hands shot up, waving like saplings in a windstorm. You'd have thought I'd offered to forfeit the House Cup to the first volunteer. Ginny and Seamus were two of the first to put their hands up, so they were given the honor of teaching me the Patronus Charm. _

_I know what you're thinking: What kind of a stupid honor is that? I asked Seamus that very question, and he laughed. _

_"There's a bit of a competition going—bets on who's the better teacher. We all joke that the ultimate test is seeing who can help a Death Eater get it down." _

_I stopped racking my mind for happy thoughts and focused on that bit instead. "The joke being that no Death Eater would be caught dead learning the Patronus Charm." _

_He grinned. "Exactly." _

_"Well, I'm not dead, nor do I wish to be, so does it still count?" _

_Ginny nudged my wand hand, and I lifted it. "Of course it does." She gave a nod. "Try it again." _

_I wasn't sure how I felt about being part of an inside joke. Had they been just a shade meaner, I would've thought myself the butt of it; but nice as they were, I decided to shrug it off. Before long, I thought it pretty funny. It's not often you have a chance to live out a running joke. _

_That's the first thing that struck me about Dumbledore's Army: the sheer volume of inside jokes. Everything, it seemed, had a funny side. Asteria told stories about getting away with late assignments and unfinished essays on the flimsiest of excuses, and older members shook their heads. Daphne ruffled her hair and called her "the Carrows' lap-dog." I cringed, expecting a fight, but Asteria laughed. "I'm surprised Alecto doesn't stand outside the loos, clapping and cheering every time I take a pee on my own." Not surprisingly, this became a joke in and of itself—though I must admit I was more than a little perplexed when a group of fourth-years burst into applause after one of their own finished with his business. _

_They had a game, which they introduced to me after a few meetings. It was called "One Minute Escape," and what it lacked in formality, it more than made up in fun. At any moment when the members weren't planning or strategizing, one would turn to another and ask a question. _

_"Snape finds you in the library, aiming your wand at Amycus, who is unconscious and covered in fur. One minute to escape. Go."_

_I paused for only a moment, then drew myself up theatrically. "This man is a liar and a cheat," I said in my most authoritative, dignified voice. "The giant squid deserves better." _

_Neville and Seamus burst out laughing; Asteria, Ginny and Daphne covered their shocked laughter with their hands. _

_"I didn't know the giant squid was a she," Neville said when he got his wind back. _

_I grinned. "I never said it was a she." _

_Frankly, I thought they'd never stop laughing. _

_It was a bit unnerving at first, all that laughter and merriment. None of it made sense. Here was a group of students, generally hated or simply disliked by the teachers—whose colleagues were usually trying to kill or oppress their parents—and they were acting as though it was all some grand joke. To hear them talk, you'd think Snape had become Headmaster as a prank and the Carrows were appointed teachers simply because the students needed something to laugh at. I awaited the Amycus and Alecto jokes eagerly; I smiled politely at the ones about Snape. No sense making enemies over a little thing like that. _

_Since I'd been unofficially appointed the DA's unofficial healer, I started learning the art right away. I borrowed potions books from the library and stayed up late to read them, copying down the best recipes and hiding them in my school bag. In Potions class, I asked questions about healing, under the guise of harming others: "Say a person 'accidentally' falls down the stairs. Is there a potion to hide the injury? Or at least keep them functioning at a normal level until the blood dries?" Until the end of the year, Professor Slughorn never again looked at me without sad bewilderment clouding his eyes. But he gave me the answers I needed—even if he never let me touch the basilisk venom, or a host of other dangerous ingredients that had found their way into the cupboard that year._

_The spells were a bit trickier. I've always been the kind of person who needs to see a spell done before casting it myself; this went double for healing spells. So many things can go wrong with even the simplest healing spell (I still remember that time in my second year when Harry broke his arm and Professor Lockhart removed his bones instead of mending them) and I wasn't about to kill anyone by mistake. _

_"You won't kill anyone," Asteria said with a laugh. I didn't see what was so funny. _

_"I'm not going to risk anyone's life, Ter." _

_With a sigh, she grabbed my wrist. "Come on." In a few minutes, we reached the hospital wing. She gestured to the door as if the door itself were the answer to my problem. "There. An entire wing full of medical knowledge, complete with a woman who can show them to you." _

_"But..." I stopped. We both knew I had no excuse for entering the hospital wing and asking Madame Pomfrey to demonstrate a basic healing spell. Suddenly, it hit me. "Do you have a knife on you?" _

_Asteria handed me a small dagger. _

_"Thank you." I ducked into an empty classroom, then drew the knife across my calf. I limped out and gave her knife back. "Help me inside. I'll tell her...tell her I was practicing with a spell and it went wrong." _

_"She'll never fall for it." _

_"She doesn't have to." Asteria opened the door, and I limped through. _

_When I gave Madame Pomfrey my story, her first question was, "Which spell?" _

_"I can't tell you." _

_Madame Pomfrey folded her arms. "If you can't tell me how you got that cut, I can't heal it properly." _

_"I think a basic healing spell will do it," Asteria told her. _

_"Do you now." Madame Pomfrey sighed, lifting her wand from a nearby table. "All right, then. If this doesn't work, you're on your own. Understood?" _

_"Understood." _

_I watched her carefully, memorizing the wand movements. Unfortunately, she used the spell nonverbally, so I didn't catch the word. Even so, I felt a bit giddy as I headed down the corridor, Asteria close by my side. _


	11. Asteria, Part Seven

_Thanks to I-LOV-TWILIGHT98, The Glowing Mischief, Analie209 and L.A.H.H. for the reviews!_

* * *

In Mid-February, Draco cast his first Patronus.

It happened quite suddenly, in the middle of a practice session, and it was something of a relief when it did. That, at least, was what Asteria thought; for all she knew, the others might enjoy hearing the blond complain and fret in turns.

"You can't keep saying you'll never get it down," Ginny told him. "You have to believe you'll cast it. Now, stand up and try it again."

Heaving a sigh, Draco stood.

"Now. Close your eyes and focus on something that makes you happy. And this time, believe it'll work. Don't focus on anything that might keep it from working."

He obeyed. Asteria thought he might say something snide, at which point Ginny might finally lose her temper, and she paused her own practice long enough to watch. His face slowly relaxed, giving in—she hoped—to a strong, happy memory. It seemed hours before he finally shouted the charm, eyes squeezed shut.

_"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" _

A burst of silver shot from his wand, much larger and more solid than the frail wisps he usually cast. The falcon spread its wings and glided across the ceiling, dipped and dived, circled around the room and returned to its master. Draco gave a whoop of joy.

"I cast one! I cast one!"

Ginny laughed. "Well, it's about time! You could've cast one weeks ago, if you'd listened to me and Seamus!"

"Shut up, will you?" Rude words, but he said them in a perfectly friendly way, and Ginny didn't take offense. He laughed. "God. I can't believe I did it!"

"God had something to do with it, I'm sure."

Draco and Ginny turned to her with opposite expressions: Draco's quizzical frown stood in contrast to Ginny's bemused smile. Asteria shrugged.

"You keep using his name. I think it's time he got some of the credit, don't you?"

For a long moment, neither spoke. Asteria let the silence linger until Draco sighed.

"Be careful where you say that sort of thing, Ter." His voice had grown soft. "God knows what'd happen if Alecto heard you."

She couldn't help but smile. "I'm sure he does."

* * *

He may have mastered the Patronus Charm, but when Amycus asked, Draco still had far to go where the Cruciatus Curse was concerned.

"Oh yes, Professor, definitely," she said when he asked if Draco was still improving. "By leaps and bounds. But he's still not completely comfortable in casting it. Doesn't always get it _right, _if you know what I mean."

Amycus squinted his beady eyes, and Asteria held her breath, fearing his next thought would be words of suspicion. How long should it take a student to master the Curse, after all?

"Keepin' up on your homework, then?"

Asteria smiled. "My grades are as high as ever, Professor."

He kept his eyes narrowed, and Asteria fought to remain still beneath his stare. "Could you keep 'em up if, say, you took on another student?"

She blinked in surprise. "A-another student? To...to tutor them?"

Amycus gave a wheezing laugh. "Well, I ain't asking you to marry him!"

So it was a him. "Who?"

"Theodore Nott." Asteria recognized the surname of another Death Eater. Theodore must be his son. "Given who his father is, he shouldn't be having trouble with any of the Unforgivables. I'd tutor him meself, but I'm running a bit short of time, see."

Asteria nodded slowly, turning the matter over in her mind. Draco knew Theodore, but didn't mention him much. That immediately distinguished him from Crabbe and Goyle, whose love of torture had earned the shock and derision of their erstwhile companion, and Pansy Parkinson, whose name caused an uncomfortable lull in conversation. All three Slytherins enjoyed the Cruciatus Curse, so if Theodore was rarely mentioned by one who clearly hated it...

"I'd be glad to tutor him, Professor."

Amycus gave her his best lopsided grin, though Asteria thought it resembled a leer. "Wonderful." He gave her the date and time of Theodore's next detention.

"I'll meet him at the stairs," she promised.

* * *

Worry picked at her nerves for the next few days. Not surprisingly, Theodore didn't approach her at all; didn't introduce himself or acknowledge her presence. His silence didn't stop her heart from giving a nervous jump whenever she heard his name, or from making her long for a way out of the arrangement each time she thought of his upcoming detention. By the time Draco arrived in the Ravenclaw common room the next evening, Asteria had decided on a course of action.

_You're going to fake it with Theodore, aren't you? _

Asteria sighed. _Word travels fast. _

_He told me last night. Complained is more like it. _

She looked at him, and his grey eyes sparkled.

_Theo thinks you're one of the best torturers in the school, _Draco continued, _and he'd rather spend an evening having Crabbe and Goyle demonstrate the Curse on him. You'll fake it, won't you? _

_I was planning on it, _she lied. He smiled.

_Good. _

* * *

Her apprehension grew with each step toward the dungeons. She reminded herself of Draco's report and forced herself to take step after step. He wasn't a Slytherin, the son of a Death Eater. He was a friend of Draco, a boy who could very well become an ally. That thought kept her from running off in the opposite direction when she saw him standing at the top of the stairs, kept her voice steady as she greeted him.

"You must be Theodore Nott."

He didn't return her smile. "I've seen you before."

"Good. Then we can get right down to it, can't we?" Without waiting for a reply, she hurried down the stairs, glancing back once to see that he followed. He did, at a distance. Pausing on the step, she forced a laugh. "Well, hurry up! We'll never get down there if you keep dawdling!"

Theodore didn't increase his pace, but made her wait until he caught up.

"Took you long enough. Honestly, do you want to spend the entire night getting down the stairs?"

"I'm here now," he said coldly, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Can we get this over with?"

Asteria continued down the stairs, hearing his boots hit the stone as he followed. "You'll need to have a better attitude than_ that_, if you're to get this down."

"No wonder Amycus asked you to tutor me," Theodore said, glaring as he reached the bottom step. "You sound just like him."

She halted midstride, feeling the sting of his words like an icy wind. It took her a moment to recover her wits.

"You're right," she said in as strong a voice as she could muster. "Let's get this over with.

* * *

Her spirits lifted when she saw the seventh-year Hufflepuff chained to the wall. "Well, if it isn't Hannah Abbot. Caught daydreaming about Mister Longbottom again?"

"Shut up, Greengrass." Sweet girl. Maybe that was why she'd never been good at comebacks. Her eyes darted from Asteria's face to Theodore's. "More tutoring?"

Asteria took her wand from her belt and twirled it between her fingers, hoping Theodore wouldn't notice the trembling. "No, Abbot, we're here to show you how to fix your hair. Do it all up in pin curls and braid a few ribbons into it. Why else would we come to the dungeons on a lovely Thursday night?"

This time, Hannah didn't bother with a retort. She simply glanced at Theodore, then Asteria. Her brown eyes shone.

Straightening, Asteria took her place in front of her friend. "This is how it works. I will fire the curse, and you will scream. There will be none of this nonsense about not screaming, or this detention will turn very ugly very fast. Do I make myself clear?"

With that, she raised her wand, pointing it over her shoulder at the barred door behind her. "_Crucio_!"

Hannah's scream was perfect in every way: a sufficiently agonized yelp that rose in pitch, fading to a few whimpers added on for good measure. She opened her eyes with a smile.

Asteria turned. Theodore's back was pressed against the stone wall, his hazel eyes as wide as saucers. "You— she— you didn't—"

With a laugh, she helped him stand. "And now you know my secret."


	12. Asteria, Part Eight

_Thanks to L.A.H.H., tenneyshoes, Aileen Autarkeia, The Glowing Mischief, Analie209 and RavenclawRebel for the reviews! _

* * *

It wouldn't be fair, Draco said, to give Theodore practical instruction in the Cruciatus Curse and deprive him of a chance to learn the theory as well. So with Amycus' consent, Asteria invited Theodore to join her and Draco in the Ravenclaw common room two mornings and one night per week. She welcomed the opportunity to recruit another spy, but felt a bit cheated, now that she and Draco were no longer alone. Asteria never admitted it to anyone save her sister, but she couldn't help feeling a little thrill whenever Theo had to skip a session. Daphne gave her a knowing smile.

"Does my little sister have a crush?"

Asteria felt heat flood her cheeks, spreading all the way to her toes. "No. I enjoy talking to him, that's all. He's quite intelligent."

Daphne's teasing smile remained. "And the fact he's easily the most handsome boy in his year has nothing to do with that assessment."

"Shut up."

Draco asked for the Muggle history book in early March. After a moment's hesitation, Asteria went to her dormitory, dug it out of her trunk, and brought it back to the common room. "Thanks," Draco said, tucking it into his bag. "I'm sure Theo will get as much out of it as I did."

When he returned it, expletives were sprinkled in the margins, a running commentary on Hitler's atrocities. A small stick figure stood beside the still photograph of the Fuhrer, lifting its middle finger in an obscene salute. The initials M.B. were the only clue to the artist's identity. A short note had been scribbled at the bottom of the last page in Theodore's quick handwriting:_ Those Muggles aren't stupid. They did the exact same thing we purebloods are doing now—and they did it without magic. You say we're better than them, and you're a filthy liar. _Beneath that, in a girl's script: _I second that. Hope the Dark Lord gets what Hitler got.  
_

Dumbledore's Army held a quick meeting and put their membership to a vote. Theodore's passed by a slightly greater margin than Draco's had, while the question of his girlfriend, Millicent Bulstrode, gave Neville pause. "You haven't tutored her, Teri. We don't know where her loyalties are."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Neville! Do you really think a Carrow supporter would want You-Know-Who to kill himself and have his secretary set fire to his corpse?"

"You-Know-Who doesn't have a secretary."

"I don't know," Draco said with a shrug, giving his potion a stir. "Does Wormtail count?"

"The point is," Daphne continued, "I_ know_ Millicent. She writes limericks." Her mouth tipped. "You'd be surprised how many swear words can be made to rhyme with 'Carrow.'"

Dumbledore's Army voted to accept Millicent Bulstrode. To hear her limericks, Seamus said.

"You won't be sorry," Draco said with a smile. "Trust me."

* * *

Once a potion was finished brewing, Draco split the batch. Half went to the Room of Requirement, a massive room filled with centuries of hidden junk. The bottles were stashed near an old bust crowned with a badly discolored tiara. He quizzed the other members on the location: "Where is the emergency stash?" "By the old guy with the ugly tiara." "And when do you use them?" "When we can't find you." The rest was again divided in two: half went to the bottom of his trunk, and the other half went to Asteria's. "Makes it harder for the Carrows to track," Neville explained to the younger members.

After all she knew about the Carrows, Asteria was still surprised when the first emergency stash began to disappear. She reasoned that Draco had made rather small batches, which accounted for the rapid depletion, but he appeared tired and drawn during their next session in her common room.

_I was up all night, healing. _

_Who? _

_Detention victims. Brace yourself, Ter. Before too long, Alecto will want to show her lap-dog some new tricks. _

* * *

A week and a half from Easter, Asteria crouched in a corner of the unlocked cell, tears flowing. She shoved her fist against her mouth, holding a bit of skin between her teeth. The pain kept her from screaming.

She looked up when the door creaked open, a shadow passing through the dim light. Draco saw her, but gave no greeting. He simply knelt beside a listless Ginny, took a small bottle from his pocket, and poured a bit of the thick salve onto his palm. A slight, pungent fragrance filled the cell as he dabbed it on the blood-caked burns.

"Alecto showed you the new curse, I see," he whispered, attention focused on his task.

Asteria swallowed a fresh knot of tears.

"It's a nasty one, isn't it?" He exhaled slowly. "You'd think a curse that cauterizes the wounds wouldn't be so bad, but—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Silence settled over the little cell.

"I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?" Asteria drew a ragged breath. "You weren't the one who...who..." A sob threatened to burst out of her, but she held it in.

"How'd you manage to fool Alecto?" Draco asked after another uncomfortable pause. "She didn't seem angry, last I saw her."

Ginny mumbled something, and Draco put a finger to her lips. "Don't try to talk. Teri?"

"Blood. She—she thinks I'm afraid of blood." Asteria inhaled again. "She said we'll have to work on that."

This silence lasted longest of all, unbroken but for Asteria's strangled tears and Ginny's shallow breathing.

"I can't do this, Draco."

"You've done it for the past year. Why stop now?"

"I can't fake this curse! It—I—I can't—" She trembled, hugging her knees to her chest. "I want to go home."

Finished with the salve, he wiped the rest of it on his robes. For a long moment, he gazed at the floor. When he finally looked at her, his eyes were sadder than she'd ever seen them.

"You can't leave. You disappear after Easter, and your parents will be in Azkaban before you can blink. I've seen it happen." He paused, drawing a breath. "It's just one curse, Ter. Ginny will be fine."

"What if Alecto shows me more?"

"Then you'll have to do them. Carry the cures with you. They heal slowly, so the Carrows won't become suspicious."

Asteria hugged her knees closer. She felt the tears at the backs of her eyes, threatening a flood. Draco crossed the cell and knelt in front of her, then gently wiped the tears with his thumb. His skin felt cool against her flaming cheek.

"You'll just have to do your best." He smiled slightly. "If I can, so can you."


	13. Letter Five

_Thanks to L.A.H.H., end butterfly, The Glowing Mischief, tenneyshoes, JoStone, solemnly-up-to-no-good and hardestofhearts for the reviews!  
_

* * *

_Alecto continued taking Teri along to show her the new curses. Some nights, I'd be a few cells away and I'd hear them, Alecto shouting the curse and yelps of pain following. Asteria would copy her teacher as best she could, and when all was quiet again, I'd come by to repair the damage. You had to admire her strength. Unlike some students, Teri didn't burst into tears when Alecto made her curse her friends. She didn't fall against the door, sobbing that she couldn't do it, or beg to go back to her common room and study the curse some more. I think Alecto said it best: _

_"When she saw that boy chained to the wall, you know what she did? That girl took a deep breath, grabbed her wand, and stood up straight. She closed her eyes—so she wouldn't see the blood, smart girl—and, holding the wand with both hands, fired the curse. Did a rather poor job of it, but a good start, for one who can't stand the sight of an open wound." _

_I found her later, carefully administering the salve I'd given her, but her hands shook and she was making a mess of it. "I'm sorry," she kept whispering. His eyes were closed, and I didn't know if he could hear her or not. "I'm so sorry..." I joined her on the floor, took the salve, and finished the job for her. _

_The new detentions were interrupted by Easter, and she was far more relieved than I was. Then again, she was lucky. She, after all, got to return to a place that wasn't the Dark Lord's headquarters, with a family that wasn't in constant danger of his wrath. Neville shuddered when I mentioned Aunt Bella would be there. I just shrugged. I'd spent the previous summer learning to avoid her, and I'd become pretty good at it. If I could make it through the week without incident, I knew I'd be fine. _

_Despite the new developments with the Carrows, I felt surprisingly lighthearted when I stepped off the train. You might say that's simply because I spent a good portion of it wandering the compartments with Asteria, pretending to keep order while we were really just talking. (In all honesty, we didn't need to keep order. Dumbledore's Army, the chief troublemakers, sided with us, and the other students were all too scared or too apathetic to act out. At most, we got a sullen look or a halfhearted insult.) The biggest threat was Pansy, and I gave her the brush-off. She stormed away in a huff, and I think Asteria was just as relieved as I was when she did. _

_Mum met me at the platform, and I could tell she was surprised. In just a few short months, I'd gone from depressed to—well, not exactly elated, but content. At Christmas, I'd been virtually alone, stranded on a battlefield filled with people who couldn't stand the sight of me. Now, I had Asteria by my side, Dumbledore's Army at my back, and a mother who was working to end this mess I'd gotten into. Life seemed bearable. _

_I should have known it couldn't last. _

_Easter week passed rather quietly. I stayed away from Aunt Bella, though that was somewhat unnecessary, now that I appeared to be mastering her favorite curse. I answered your questions as vaguely as I could, and you seemed satisfied that I was following in your footsteps. Mum was the only one who really knew everything I'd been up to, and hearing it made her happy. You should have seen her when I told her about my involvement in the DA. I think she was going to hug me right then and there, but Aunt Bella chose that moment to pass by. Until Friday night, I thought things were going well. _

_I remember the scene clearly. The three of us were in the drawing room; Aunt Bella had left some time before and hadn't returned. As usual, I was glad she was gone. It was easier to concentrate on my Transfiguration essay when I couldn't feel her watching me. You and Mum were reading. I think that was the first time since June that she'd actually allowed herself to become absorbed in the plot. (She used reading as an excuse to learn, through you and Aunt Bella, what the Dark Lord was planning next. Nobody pays attention to a meek little housewife with her nose in a book, she said.) It was so quiet I could hear the clock ticking away the minutes, but it was the comfortable sort of silence we used to have, back before the war started. So I think we all jumped when someone knocked on the door. I know I did. _

_When I heard Mum's voice, I knew something was wrong. Greyback's voice was none too surprising; he always talked the same way, whether he was about to devour a toddler or about to use the loo. But Mum had different tones for different occasions, and when she greeted Greyback, her voice was so cold I expected frost on the windows. She was trying to scare him off, but it wasn't working. _

_I knew who the Snatchers had the moment they brought them inside. I'd gone to school with them for six years, after all; how could I not recognize them? But now, my biggest rival had become my last great hope—and I was expected to identify him so we could hand him over to the Dark Lord. _

_Since agreeing to help Mum spy for the Order, I'd gone over all the possibilities a thousand times. Many of those possibilities involved all the ways I could aid in Harry Potter's escape. I'd foolishly pictured myself as the hero, courageously allowing him to escape while managing to keep our family out of trouble. Like most daydreams, this one struck wide of the mark. Unlike most daydreams, this one became reality rather quickly. Too quickly, in fact, to become anything but a nightmare. _

_You asked me later if I was _trying _to slow you up. You never raised your voice, but I could feel your anger all the same. "Do you not understand, what it would mean if we had been the ones to hand him over?" I understood. "Did you _want_ him to escape?" I said nothing, because I knew you wouldn't like my answer._

_By now, I'm sure you know the answer was yes._

_Never, until the moment I saw him in our drawing room, did I realize what a tricky job letting him go would be. You knew who he was. Aunt Bella knew who he was. I couldn't disagree without tipping my hand, so I did what I always did in sticky situations like that: I did as I was told, knowing that by doing so, the whole ordeal would end badly one way or another. Either we'd hang on to Potter and I'd have to stick with the Dark Lord even longer, or Potter would escape and we'd be even worse off than we were before. _

_Have you any idea how awful it is, following orders when you know you're just sealing your own fate? _

_You remember how it turned out. Harry and his friends escaped at last (no thanks to me) Aunt Bella summoned the Dark Lord, and responsibility for the entire mess fell on my shoulders. _

_The result was something I'm sure we'd both rather forget.  
_


	14. Asteria, Part Nine

_Thanks to the following reviewers: The Glowing Mischief, L.A.H.H., tenneyshoes and JoStone!  
_

* * *

Asteria's holiday dragged and flew in turns. The delicious freedom from the Carrows was soured by her parents' moodiness. Frieda snapped at anyone who interrupted her reverie, while Samuel spent much of the week cloistered in his office. Daphne plied them for details, but she may as well have been talking to Headmaster Snape, for all the answers she got. Asteria found she had little to share with them, as well. At the table, conversation was brief.

"How has school been, girls?"

"Fine," they said, one after the other.

There was nothing more to say.

On Monday morning, she hurried across the platform, scanning the crowd, Saturday's broadcast of _Potterwatch _fresh in her mind. She had just stood on tiptoe to get a better view when Daphne elbowed her. She shook her head. "He might not be here, Teri. You heard the broadcast."

"They have to let him come back to school."

"_They_ wouldn't have much of a say in it." Daphne pulled her toward the train. "It'd be up to You-Know-Who, really."

"Still. He has to let him come back."

"You-Know-Who doesn't _have_ to do anything. He's in power, he can do what he wants." Sighing, Daphne stopped a few feet from the train door. "Listen, Ter. I know you're worried about him. But I also know he's not the only ally who might not come back to school."

Asteria nodded, staring at her shoes. Her sister's tone was gentle, and somehow that made it all the worse. She had shared the same fears with her mother immediately following the broadcast, and her sharp response had brought tears_. "You think your little Death Eater friend is the only one in danger! Draco, Draco, Draco—it's all you ever think about, isn't it? Put your mind on some of our _friends_ for once_!" Daphne's soft words brought guilt. She had other friends at school—friends who were in even graver danger than Draco was.

"I'm sorry. I just..." She sighed, looking around at the crowds without really seeing them.

Daphne led her onto the train. "Don't mind what Mum said. She's just worried about the war."

She nodded, but couldn't resist another glance back. Draco was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, she climbed the steps. "I hate this stupid war," she murmured.

* * *

Asteria felt travel-weary when the train pulled into the Hogsmeade station, her legs and back stiff from sitting, her arms sore from holding a book in place. She sighed, thinking of the carriage ride ahead, but a familiar face pushed all thoughts of weariness from her mind. She waved.

"Draco! Over here!"

Her voice seemed especially loud over the quiet, nervous conversations held by the other students, but she didn't care. Draco had to turn several times before he spotted her, then ask permission from the tall, angry-looking man holding him back. Unsure if he would get it, Asteria ducked and weaved through the crowd. After several pleas, the man released him, and he met her halfway. She couldn't contain a smile.

"You came back."

Draco raked a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I'm back." His voice sounded hoarse. Maybe the flu?

"Daddy told us what happened. Pity it had to happen at your house." She glanced at the men behind him, recognizing a few Death Eaters who had greeted her father on the street or stopped by with news. With a start, she realized they were there to make sure Draco didn't escape. "Will they...?"

He looked back, tilting his head toward the carriages. The men nodded gravely. Turning back to her, he sighed. "Let's go, then."

Asteria led the way, quickening her pace as a few carriages broke away from the pack and rolled toward the castle. She had nearly broken into a run when Draco's voice caught up to her.

"Slow down, will you?"

Asteria's stopped in her tracks when she saw him, whiter than usual, clutching his chest. She started to ask what was wrong, but spotted Neville first and called out sweetly. "Oh, Longbottom! Looking for a carriage?" A few Slytherins lurked nearby, and Asteria knew his ride would be far less than pleasant if he was forced into a carriage with them.

Neville glared. "Not with you two, thanks."

Crabbe, who stood nearby, leered. "What's wrong, Longbottom? Don't want to go?"

"That's what I just said."

Pansy gave him a shove. "Go on, Longbottom. It'll be _fun_." Mocking laughter echoed this statement.

Neville put up enough of a fight to be convincing, but had little choice when the rest of the carriages pulled away from the station. Asteria helped Draco pull him into the carriage. Pretended antipathy vanished as the doors were closed and the curtains drawn.

"So what happened?" Neville asked the moment the carriage began to move.

Draco leaned back, resting his head against the wall. "You listened to _Potterwatch_?"

"Of course."

"Then you know what happened. Mum told them everything she saw."

"'Potter escaped from Malfoy residence, Granger seriously injured, house-elf fatally wounded, others unhurt, family placed under house arrest,'" he quoted. "And that's all there was to it?"

"Yes."

"It can't be."

"Well, it is."

Neville leaned back, exhaling in frustration. Asteria siezed her chance.

"Are you all right? You're not sick or something?"

"No, I'm not sick."

"Are you sure? Your voice sounds a little hoarse."

Draco watched the trees slip by through a slender crack between the curtains. After a long pause, Neville spoke.

"You-Know-Who showed up, didn't he."

"Aunt Bella called him there. Thought we'd hand Potter over."

Another moment passed. When he spoke again, Neville's voice was steady, but soft.

"Who did he torture?"

"Who do you think?" Draco said bitterly. "He's hated me from the minute I took the Mark."

Asteria met Neville's gaze: sympathetic, but not surprised. Had he known all along?

"Are you okay?" Asteria touched his arm, and he stiffened. A terrible possibility occurred to her. "You're not having heart failure, are you? From the Curse?"

For the first time, he managed a thin smile. "No, nothing like that. That's just where most of the curses hit. Heart and lungs. Pain's about worn off, though."

"'_About_ worn off'?" Neville sat forward, his dark eyes wide. Asteria thought he might be counting the days since the escape, figuring how much time Draco had to recover. "Blimey, how long did he torture you?"

"I didn't keep track," Draco said stiffly. "I couldn't exactly watch the clock."

The carriage rolled down the path.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Asteria said again.

Another long silence passed before Draco shrugged.

"I'm alive, aren't I?"

"That's not what I meant." Why did he not look at her? Was he afraid to see the concern in her eyes?

"It's true, though," Neville said. "He's still alive, and so is Harry." He leaned back. "We can't ask for much more than that."


	15. Asteria, Part Ten

_Thank you to solemnly-up-to-no-good, Analie209, tenneyshoes, The Glowing Mischief and L.A.H.H. for reviewing! _

* * *

"Greengrass!"

Asteria cringed inwardly at Alecto's voice and turned. "Yes, Professor?"

Her teacher's smile immediately put her on edge. "I have good news."

"Oh?" She did her best to appear interested as her heart and mind raced with the possibilities. Had Snape finally decided to expell Neville? Was Ginny in Azkaban? Had Snatchers killed Luna?

"A Slytherin student has agreed to tutor you in the new curses."

"I thought that's what you were doing, Professor."

"And I'd love to keep going, but I've less time than I'd like these days. You'll meet tonight, in the Slytherin common room."

Asteria felt close to panic. "Can you tell me who I'll be learning from?"

Alecto laughed. "And spoil the surprise? Of course not." She ruffled Asteria's hair-a rough gesture, but she figured it was meant as an affectionate one. "The password is 'conquest.' Don't be late."

She left Asteria stranded in the corridor, fighting tears as she clutched her school bag.

* * *

The entrance to Slytherin House looked remarkably like the gates of Hell as she approached it. Granted, Asteria had never seen the gates of Hell, but she imagined it must look something like this. The gargoyle watched her come closer, his supervision turning her feet to stone. She forced herself to take step after step, knowing the consequences would be dreadful if she skipped. Alecto had made this tutoring sound like a reward. Refusing it would be tantamount to refusing a gift, in Alecto's eyes. Her heart raced, faster and faster, until she thought it might tire and fail altogether.

For a few moments after hearing Alecto's news, Asteria had entertained the notion that Draco would be her tutor. But after turning it over once or twice, she'd had no choice but to dismiss it: Draco wasn't any better with the new curses than she was, and he would have told her if he'd agreed to tutor her. Daphne's skills with the curses were slightly less lamentable, but Asteria knew her sister wouldn't make the arrangement through any of the teachers; she would have taken her to the library or the Room of Requirement without bothering to ask permission. Theodore Nott and Millicent Bulstrode hated the Carrows, and probably wouldn't dream of offering their services to a Ravenclaw. She knew of only two Slytherins who had both the talent and the inclination to tutor her: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. The thought of being tutored by them made bile rise in her throat.

She stopped a few feet from the entrance. The stone wall seemed impregnable, more like a prison wall than a House entrance. She felt the gargoyle's eyes upon her, but she didn't return its gaze. Asteria longed for Ravenclaw's elegant wooden door and the gentle eagle that guarded it.

"Are you coming in or not?"

There was no doubt the voice belonged to the gargoyle, but she jumped anyway. Like any other gargoyle's voice, this one was low and gravelly, as though it came from the rock itself. Drawing a shaky breath, Asteria cleared her throat.

"Conquest."

The gargoyle moved aside, and Asteria ducked through the hole. Once inside, she caught her breath.

Daphne had described the Slytherin common room to her when she came home during her first year. Asteria had heard her sister and her mother discuss their memories the House ("The gargoyle looks mean, but he's quite lovely to me" "Oh, yes he is, dear; he's an excellent conversationalist, if you've time to chat") and had tried to picture it. Their descriptions of green-glowing lanterns, grinning skulls ("Of course they are fake, _Liebchen_, some old warlock probably put them there as a joke") and muffled pounding of the lake overhead had fired her imagination. She had spent hours recreating the scene in her mind, prying her sister for details that she was only too glad to supply.

Now, after spending five years in Ravenclaw's graceful tower, she realized how woefully inaccurate her picture had been.

Everything her mother and sister had described was there: the peculiar lanterns, the skulls, the dark leather furniture. But everything here was much grander than Mother and Daphne had made it sound. They had never mentioned the thick fur rugs scattered across the floor, or the delicate silver supporting the lanterns. The stone walls were hung with green and silver tapestries depicting all manner of ancient scenes: battles, lovers, alliances, betrayals. Was Slytherin's history written here, for those willing and able to interpret it? Or was Ravenclaw the only House that told its story in riddles?

"I was wondering when you'd make it."

A familiar voice pulled her from her reverie. "Millicent! _You're_ tutoring me?"

Millicent led her toward a cluster of tables, where one was set with quills and parchment. "Well, let's see. Draco's no good at the curses, and Theo doesn't have the time. Pansy's usually sulking, and Crabbe and Goyle and all the rest wouldn't be caught dead tutoring a Ravenclaw. So I think that leaves...me."

Such a frank speech would have sent Neville or Padma or any other Gryffindor into a rage, and would have cowed a Hufflepuff like Hannah. Asteria had heard ruder things from her Housemates, although the Ravenclaws phrased them more eloquently. She laughed. "I'm glad it's you."

Millicent snorted, as though impatient with her thanks. She took a seat, motioning Asteria to do the same. "Let's get started, then. We don't have all night."

* * *

Alecto's goal was to have Asteria proficient in the new curses by the end of May. To attain this, Asteria had to sacrifice one weekend morning with Draco, as well as one evening during the week. Had Crabbe and Goyle indeed been her tutors, she would have dreaded every Thursday and Saturday; with Millicent, she came to anticipate them.

_Draco said you two pass notes, _Millicent wrote the first evening. Asteria blushed.

_Yes, we do. _

_No sense abandoning a perfectly good tradtion, then. Did you hear the latest joke about Amucus? _

To Asteria's surprise, the joke had come not from Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, but from a group of Slytherins who preferred to remain anonymous. Theodore and Millicent were not the first Slytherins to turn against their teachers, merely the first to join Dumbledore's Army. Asteria's heart leaped at this.

_You mean...none of you like the Carrows? You-Know-Who? _

_Some of us do. Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle, the Zabinis- they're all crazy about the new regime. _

_You weren't? _

Millicent stared at the parchment for a long moment, and Asteria got the feeling she was choosing her words.

_I was at first, _she wrote slowly, _just like everyone else, I suppose. Most of us grew up hearing about the First War from what you might call a strictly Slytherin perspective. When the Dark Lord came to power, we all felt...well, like those Germans must have felt when the Nazis took over. Some of us reconsidered when we heard the screams._

The screams were one of the few things Asteria disliked about the Slytherin common room. When she first heard some poor student's cry of pain, muffled by the stone walls, she had jumped, tipping the inkwell and scattering parchment. Mouth grim, Millicent calmly cleared the ink with a flick of her wand and rearranged the parchment into a tidy pile.

"Sorry," Draco said from a nearby sofa. "I should've warned you."

"It's all right." Asteria had drawn a breath to calm herself. "I should've guessed, you being so close to the dungeons."

Unlike the Ravenclaws, precious few Slytherins left when Asteria entered their domain; to the contrary, the common room always seemed to fill when she entered it. Older ones looked up from their homework, then quickly returned to it. Their younger Housemates watched her with varying degrees of interest, the more unabashed ones staring openly until their older companions drew them away. Asteria wasn't sure what to make of this.

_I don't have something in my hair, do I? _

Millicent sniffed. _If you had something in your hair, you'd know by now. Slytherin doesn't get many visitors, that's all. _

_Neither do the other Houses. _

_It's different for us. The other Houses want to visit each other—Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws—they all want to see each other's Houses. Nobody wants to see what Slytherin is like. _

Asteria felt a pang of guilt. Hadn't she, too, been afraid to visit? _That's too bad. I like it here._

She hadn't realized it until that moment, but it was true. The Slytherin common room wasn't graceful and airy like Ravenclaw, but pleasantly eerie and mysterious, like the lake above it. The green lights burned steadily, blending with the warm gold cast by the fireplace. After she gave one of the skulls a few sharp raps, she came to regard the clever fakes as darkly humorous rather than frightening. In Ravenclaw, Asteria felt she could touch the sky. In Slytherin, mysteries concealed in the depths of the earth seemed within reach.

Millicent's tutoring lasted just long enough to convince her Housemates that she was actually teaching their guest. This left Asteria ample time to study the tapestries. Oddly enough, its inhabitants could interpret few of them.

"What's this one?"

Theodore adjusted his glasses, squinting at the scene of a young man embracing a young woman. Flowers bloomed around them both, and joy was evident on their faces. "I can't rightly say."

Asteria moved closer to study it better. "They look happy."

"Must be...ah! I think it's Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff. See? She's wearing yellow."

"Why is it in Slytherin?"

Theodore shrugged. "How should I know? I didn't put it here."

She moved on. "And this one?"

Theodore nodded gravely at the two men bickering. "Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. That's the fight that ended it all." He shrugged again. "For Slytherin, anyway."

Asteria passed a few other tapestries, none of which held her interest, and glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes to curfew. Most of the Slytherins had gone to bed; only Draco and Millicent remained with them. She was about to bid them goodnight when a tapestry in a dark corner caught her eye. Her heart raced. It couldn't be. Not here. Not with the Carrows running the school.

But there it was.

She reached out in wonder and felt the threads, traced the outline of the serpent with her fingers. It held the beautiful woman in its beady gaze: Asteria could feel the power of that stare. The woman's smooth fingers barely brushed the apple, her innocent eyes utterly entranced by the fruit. Asteria knew this story. Her parents had told it a thousand times, and it had been told ten thousand times before they heard it.

"Have you seen this one before?"

Asteria turned just as Theodore looked away. "I've seen it."

"Do you know the story?"

"Of course he knows the story." Millicent rose from her chair and began gathering quills and parchment into her school bag. "There's not a bloody Slytherin who doesn't."

Asteria stared at them in amazement. "Do you know any others? From the Bible, I mean."

"Sshh!" Draco glanced all around, but they were alone. "Don't say that word so loud!"

"Sorry." She dropped her voice to a whisper and studied the three Slytherins: Millicent's set jaw, Theodore's bitter stare, Draco's guilt. "Surely that isn't the only story you know."

"It's the one we know best," Theodore said. "Nobody has ever let us forget it." He swore softly.

Asteria turned back to the tapestry showing the temptation of Eve. "I don't think God wanted to curse it."

"Curse what? The serpent?"

"No, Draco, the apple. Of course I mean the serpent." She traced the snake, vibrant green and silver. A smile touched her lips. "You know, if the serpent had just apologized, I think things would have turned out differently."

"Oh, right." Millicent swung her bag onto her shoulder. "All you have to do is apologize, and everything will turn out fine. That _always_ works."

Asteria wanted to say more, but Millicent marched across the common room, pushed open the door to the girls' dormitories, and strode through without another word.


	16. Letter Six

_Thank you to L.A.H.H., tenneyshoes, The Glowing Mischief, solemnly-up-to-no-good and RavenclawRebel for reviewing! _

* * *

_Bringing Asteria to Slytherin was like bringing a pixie to a Death Eater meeting. _

_Pansy was fairly open in her dislike. "She shouldn't be down here. She's not a Slytherin. Can't you teach her in the library?" And so on. A few agreed with her, and they all stuck together, complaining. Asteria's first visit- where they sat in a corner, whispering and sneering- was the worst. When she heard the first scream of some poor student, she jumped, and they laughed. "Is the little Ravenclaw a bit jumpy today?" Pansy said. "Can't handle the screams when you're not causing them?" Millicent shot them a glare, then moved on with the lesson. _

_Once she got over her initial nervousness, she wanted to see everything. Millicent picked up on this and ended her lessons as quickly as she could. Asteria used the rest of the time to explore: studying the lanterns, tapping the skulls, feeling the rugs with her stocking feet. The others watched her as though...well, remember what I said about that pixie? She flitted from the skulls to the tapestries to the corner where you could sometimes hear the giant squid. The deep, alien howls made her laugh. Theodore shook his head. "You're worse than the first-years." _

_I didn't learn the truth about her faith until the end of her second session in our common room. It was Saturday night, late, and we were all tired. But Theodore had agreed to show her the tapestries, and Millicent and I wanted to hear what she had to say about them. Most of her half of the conversation was taken up by questions: who was he; who is she; why is he burying the manticore in a pile of rubbish; why on earth is that one in here; honestly, do any of you ever look at these things? Not until she saw the one in the corner did things really get interesting. _

_You've seen it. I've seen it. Like Millicent told Teri, there's not a bloody Slytherin who doesn't know the story. But when she saw it, hope lit her eyes. You'd think she'd discovered the secret to defeating the Dark Lord in one of those old tapestries. She ran her fingers over the snake, feeling the power (as all of us did) of that unblinking stare. "If the serpent had just apologized," she said, "I think things would have ended differently." _

_Millicent stormed out. I moved closer, drawn by her words. Theodore watched her intently. I wanted to hear more, but at the same time, I was afraid of what she might say. _

_"'He came to his own,'" she whispered. Her head was bowed and her hand remained on the tapestry. "'And his own did not recieve him. But as many as recieved him, to them he gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in his name: who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.'" _

_We waited, tense. Both of us hoped that was the end of it, but she continued, her voice barely a whisper. _

_"'He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities. The chastisement of our peace was upon him, and by his stripes we are healed.'" _

_Theodore exhaled angrily, and I swore. Her words were as good as a confession. _

_Asteria looked at both of us. "I thought you should know." _

_"There's such a thing as knowing too much!" Theo said in his angriest whisper. _

_I grabbed her shoulder and spun her towards me. "Don't tell anyone else. Swear you won't tell anyone!" _

_She jerked away. "I can't promise that! What if someone else needs to hear it?" _

_"Teri, this could get you killed! You remember what happened to that Hufflepuff last autumn? You want that to happen to you? You want them to drag you out of the school in the middle of the night, leave you for dead without so much as a fare-thee-well?" _

_I expected her to start crying- or at the very least, to look away and mumble an apology- but she did none of those things. Instead, she looked me square in the eye and spoke softly, but confidently. "The Carrows dislike my faith because it's a threat. It endangers them and everything they stand for. If you want to best them, I suggest you learn why it frightens them so." _

_She ducked under my arm, snatched up her bag from the table, and left the common room without another word. A long moment passed; then Theodore swore again. _

_"I don't believe it. A Chris-" _

_I held up my hand. "Don't say it. Don't even say it." _

_"You don't think Daphne is...?" _

_I sighed, thinking she probably was. If so, that put her and her sister in even more danger. Two Christians, and Jewish to boot. I had to do something. _

_I went to McGonagall the next day, homework in hand. When I gave it over, she looked down at it, then at me, with a dubious look. _

_"Draco, you know this isn't due until Monday." _

_"I know." I shrugged. "Just thought I'd hand it in early. I got it done, so I figured I might as well." _

_That evening, I paced the Room of Requirement for what felt like hours. The room kept expanding as I walked the legnth of it, but I hardly noticed. All I could think of was the note I'd hidden in the text of my homework. McGonagall was with the Order. She knew the code. She had to know the code. I didn't even hear the door open. _

_"All right, Draco, I'm here. What did you want to talk to me about?" _

_I jumped at her voice. "Good." I managed a nervous smile. "You made it." _

_McGonagall didn't return it. She folded her arms. "If this is important enough to risk both our safety, I'm sure we can dispense with the pleasantries." _

_"Right." I sucked in a breath, walked a few paces, and spoke. "I know Mum is planning something. Something big." _

_"And what makes you think your mother is planning something, Draco?" _

_I shrugged. "Just...watching her. I could tell." _

_She lifted her eyebrows. "Can you always tell when your mother is up to no good?" _

_"Sure." _

_"Is that why it took you until Christmas to learn she was with us?" _

_I just looked at her. Two chairs appeared, and she sat in one of them. _

_"Sit down, Draco. Tell me the truth." _

_I sat. It took a few minutes to frame my response. "When I left for Easter, she gave me her wand. Dad's wand broke last summer, and Potter had mine and Aunt Bella's. So now that it's my responsibility to relay our family's messages to the Order, I thought I should know everything my family's up to." _

_A quick glance at her face told me what I least wanted to hear: She wasn't buying it. I'd have to tell her everything. For a long moment, I couldn't speak. _

_"After I...last summer, when I...failed...he tortured me. Mum was there." _

_I felt her watching me. She didn't need to ask who _he _was. _

_"When it was over, I could barely stand. Mum was crying and hugging me...but later on, when I'd recovered some, I found her in the kitchen. She was still crying, but I could tell she was also really angry. Six months later, she tells me she's with the Order." _

_"Go on." _

_I drew a breath, rolling Mum's wand between my fingers. "He did it again. Last Friday, after Potter escaped. Aunt Bella called him just before, and he got there just after he left." I closed my eyes, wishing the memory wasn't still so raw. I could almost feel the pain, hear him shouting at me. "When he finally left, I could hardly breathe." _

_"And your mother...she was there?" _

_"She was there. Everyone but the house-elf had to watch." I paused again. "She didn't cry this time. Oh, I'm sure she cried later on, but right after? No." I shook my head. "I've never seen her so angry. And later, when we were alone, she said she'd kill him before she let him touch me." I closed my eyes. "That's what she's planning, isn't it? An attempt on the Dark Lord's life." _

_McGonagall was silent for so long I thought she might have slipped out of the room. But when I finally looked at her, her eyes were soft, filled with pity. _

_"I had no idea," she said quietly. _

_"Is it? Is that what she's planning? Because if it is..." I made a fist, thinking of her and Asteria. "She's not leaving me out of this. I won't let her." _

_McGonagall was silent for a long moment. "I suppose there's no point in keeping you out of it," she said at last. _

_"Damn right there isn't." _

_Her eyes met mine. "You'll tell us everything you know." _

_"Absolutely." _

_A small smile twitched her lips upward. "I'll tell your mother." _

* * *

_As with the religion thing in general, I'll explain the whole "Jewish-and-Christian-at-the-same-time" thing later on. Once again, I'll try not to preach. _

_Also, if anyone was interested, the verses I used are John 1:11-13 and Isaiah 53:5. _


	17. Asteria, Part Eleven

_A round of applause to Analie209, nomu11, The Glowing Mischief, Jojibear, SecretPain121208, L.A.H.H., solemnly-up-to-no-good, JoStone and tenneyshoes for the reviews! _

* * *

Millicent's tutoring sessions worked as intended: Alongside her sessions with Draco and Theodore, Asteria had two nights a week that were guaranteed detention-free. They became her oasis, two wonderful days with friends that the Carrows didn't dare touch. The other nights, however, were unguarded.

_You realize you'll have to actually perform the curse next time, _Millicent wrote.

Asteria's heart sank. _I can't. You know I can't. _

_You're not killing them, Teri. Just roughing them up a bit. _

_That's what Alecto always says. _

_And she's right. Just don't think about what you're doing. _

_Forget I'm torturing my friends? Lovely idea. I'm sure that will work _brilliantly_. _

Millicent rolled her eyes._ You _have _to look like you're improving._ _A few burns should do it. Just enough to convince her you're making an effort. _She glanced up and sighed. Asteria knew her face must be deathly pale. _Look. Next time you're in a detention, don't think about torturing whoever you're supposed to be torturing. Picture Alecto chained to the wall instead._

_Does it work? _

_It's fooled them so far. You'll notice she hasn't put me through remedial training. _

Her next detention was with Neville, and she wanted to turn and run when she saw him, still covered in angry-looking burns. Their eyes met, and he nodded ever so slightly. _Curse me, _his eyes said. _Do it. It's okay. _

Asteria closed her eyes, fighting tears.

Alecto sighed heavily. "Come on, Greengrass. We don't have all night."

She raised her wand. Though her eyes were closed, she knew at the other end of it sat Neville, wrists chained, tokens of his last detention still raw. She couldn't do this. She wasn't made for this.

"Do it! Curse him!"

Asteria clenched her teeth. Neville didn't deserve this...but Alecto did. She swallowed hard, changing the image in her mind's eye. Neville Longbottom vanished, replaced by Alecto Carrow. She chained her teacher to the wall and let her anger build.

"Curse him, Greengrass! Burn his blood!"

She clung to the image like a drowning man to his rescuer as the woman's voice threatened to tear it from her. Alecto deserved this pain. Alecto deserved to suffer.

Neville didn't.

_God, forgive me. _

"_SECTUMFLAGRANTE!" _

There was a strangled cry of pain- and a cheer. Alecto threw an arm around her shoulders, laughing, crushing her in a rough embrace. "Well done, Greengrass! Well done!"

Asteria opened her eyes.

Her curse had thrown Neville back against the wall, opening wide gashes on his torso. Blood seeped through his robes, glistening stains against the black. He clenched his fists, moaning in pain as the curse burned his wounds closed, steam rising from the cuts. A sickly sweet smell filled the air. One last shudder, and he fell against the stone, chest heaving.

"I knew it was just a matter of time! I _knew_ you had it in you- I _knew_ it!" She ruffled her hair, laughing again. Asteria forced a smile, answering her teacher's words of praise with bewildered nods, feeling as though she might faint.

When Alecto's enthusiasm was exhausted, she tilted her head toward the door. "Now get to bed, you. You don't want to be late for classes tomorrow."

Asteria nodded again. "I'll...I'll head out in a minute." Alecto grinned.

"Want to admire your handiwork, do we?" She patted Asteria on the head. "Take all the time you need, dearie." The cell door clanged shut behind her, and her heavy footfalls slapped against the stone. When they had faded altogether, Asteria took a dagger from her belt and knelt down. Her hands trembled, and she wiped them on her robes before cutting through Neville's, exposing his burned and bloody torso. She drew a breath, closing her eyes. Bile rose in her throat, but she forced it down. She wouldn't vomit. Not now.

Asteria produced the tiny bottle of salve and poured a bit onto her palm, then dabbed it on the first wound. Neville inhaled sharply, stiffening at the first touch; then he relaxed as it cooled the burns.

"Good work," he rasped with a tiny, painful smile. "I actually felt it that time."

Asteria burst into tears.

* * *

Cale was waiting by the fire when Asteria returned to her common room. "Enjoy your detention, Greengrass?"

"Shut up, Mahler."

"Oh, yes. How mature. I ask you a simple question and that's your response. 'Shut up.' How eloquent."

Asteria strode past him, toward her dormitories, but he rose from his chair and followed her. "Just go away, will you?"

"Your little tricks won't work on me, Greengrass."

She stopped and turned. His arms were folded across his chest, chin held high, confident in his righteousness.

"You think you've got the whole school wrapped around your finger," he continued. "You're the Carrows' favorite, so you can do whatever you like and the rest of us poor common folk should bow to your whim."

Anger burned through the warm glow of her weariness. "You don't know half of what I do."

"I know enough."

"Not nearly."

Cale sank into a chair and gestured for her to take another. "Then come, Greengrass. Sit. Enlighten me."

She approached the chair, but didn't sit. Instead, she folded her arms over the back. "All right. But first, you enlighten me. What have_ you_ done, Mahler? How have you stood up for what you so strongly believe?"

He turned his attention to the dying fire. "I see those bastards for what they are."

"And what have you done about it, hmm? Anything?" She lifted an eyebrow. "Amycus approved of your Dark Arts essay, I hear."

He looked at her in surprise. "How did you...?"

Asteria shrugged. "I saw it on his desk when I went forward to ask a question. It was already graded." She smiled. "'How Unforgivable Curses Might Aid Future Business Ventures.' Quite ambitious, if you ask me."

Cale leaped to his feet. "That essay was completely sarcastic!"

"Amycus didn't know that." She started for her dormitory, but Cale called after her.

"You're playing into their hand, Greengrass. Playing yourself and our entire House."

Asteria turned, meeting his gaze. "So are you, Mahler."

She slipped through the door without another word.


	18. Asteria, Part Twelve

_Thanks to L.A.H.H., tenneyshoes, JoStone, Analie209, icansoar and The Glowing Mischief for reviewing!_

* * *

A short time later, Neville vanished.

It happened rather suddenly, without fanfare. One evening he was in the Great Hall, picking at his food; the next morning he was absent from the Gryffindor table. A quick search of Gryffindor Tower failed to turn him up; subsequent searches of the castle and grounds confirmed him missing. Rumors flew, but many students already suspected his reasons for fleeing had nothing to do with his failing grades (as the Carrows said) and everything to do with the Carrows themselves. Asteria wondered if she hadn't played a tiny part in his desicion to vanish.

_You could always ask him, _Draco wrote that evening. The Ravenclaw common room was more crowded than usual on Wednesday evenings; Neville's disappearance had sent the Carrows into a frenzy. Any student unfortunate enough to be caught in the storm might find him- or herself dragged to the dungeons for questioning. Still, they kept well away from Asteria's table.

_Do you know where he is? _

_I have an idea. _

As predicted, they found him in the Room of Requirement, sitting on a hammock. The red and gold of Gryffindor hung on a banner above his head. "I thought we'd find you here," Draco said.

Neville looked up as Asteria shut the door quietly. "Yeah, it seemed like the best place to go. Thanks for warning me."

Draco took in the spartan surroundings at a glance. "You have everything you need here?"

"The Room can get me anything I need."

"Except food."

"I'll figure that out later."

"Before or after you starve?"

Neville shot him a glare. "I said I'll figure it out. Blimey, I got away so they'd _stop_ yelling at me."

Asteria gently took Draco's arm, holding Neville in place with a stare. "I'm sure you'll find something. We can always sneak food from the kitchens," she added, but Neville shook his head.

"Too risky." He managed a smile. "I'll be fine."

A few days later, Seamus Finnigan disappeared, then Ernie MacMillan. The Patil twins and Michael Corner quickly followed suit. When Asteria entered the Room of Requirement, she found more hammocks, along with two new banners: Ravenclaw's blue and bronze and Hufflepuff's yellow and black. A simple wooden door stood at one end of the Room. Neville grinned when she mentioned it.

"It's a tunnel! I probably shouldn't tell you where it leads, but there's food at the other end, trust me."

"Well, well." Draco was smiling. "You did find something, after all."

Asteria grinned. "_Jehovah-jireh_," she said, then translated: "God will provide."

Draco shrugged. "It's the Room of Requirement. I'm sure it's always been able to do that."

Members of Dumbledore's Army disappeared at an alarming rate, depleting every House but Slytherin of its occupants. The Gryffindor table shrank by two-thirds, Hufflepuff by half, and Ravenclaw by a quarter.

_I wish I could go with them, _Asteria wrote one evening. The Slytherin common room was as crowded as ever; not a single Slytherin had joined the other Houses in the mass evacuation.

_Most all of us do, _Millicent wrote back_._

_They haven't interrogated you, have they? _

_No, and they won't. After all, no Slytherin would be caught dead aiding the enemy like that. _

They shared a smile.

* * *

Asteria swung her school bag onto her shoulder and ducked out of Professor Slughorn's classroom. Most days, she watched the clock, counting the minutes until the class ended and she had the rest of the day to herself. Today, she had silently willed the minute hand to move slower. The thought of returning to Ravenclaw Tower, to the icy stares and whispered insults, to Cale Mahler's venom-laced questions, depressed her. Still, she had few options. The library would be empty or filled with Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, who would stop their conversations and glare at her until she ducked her head and left. The grounds were off-limits to students, for fear one might attempt a daring daylight escape if left to his own devices. Slytherin was an option, and a good one at that. She could do her homework in the company of friends, pass a few notes or hold a cautious conversation with Draco, catch up with her sister, and return to Ravenclaw fully armed for the sticks and stones her Housemates were sure to throw.

But as she approached the dungeons, her feet carried her right past the stairs.

She scarcely realized where she was headed until she was nearly there. By then, it seemed a waste of time and effort to change course. Asteria paced in front of the wall and pushed through the door to the Room of Requirement.

It was far more crowded than last she'd seen it; then again, she hadn't come by in over a week. Hammocks hung here and there, dotting the room as far as the eye could see. Students lounged in them or sat beneath them—chatting, reading, writing. At the far end, a group of older students practiced defensive magic.

"Hey, Greengrass is here!"

Nearby conversations stopped long enough for those holding them to wave. Smiles and cheerful greetings were tossed like flowers at her feet.

"Hey, Greengrass!"

"Long time no see!"

"Asteria! Glad you could make it!"

This last comment was made by Neville, who swept her up in a hearty embrace. He pulled away, and his smile faded.

"You're crying. Is everything all right? The Carrows didn't get you for questioning, did they?"

Asteria shook her head. "No, no, everything's fine. It's just good to see you again, that's all."

"Well, well, my little sister finally graces us with her presence."

"_Daphne_? You're hiding, too?"

Daphne chuckled. "For an hour or so. Great place to escape the Carrows." She smiled gently; her sister's tears did not escape her notice. "Come on. There's a few people I want you to meet."

* * *

Before they even said their names, Asteria knew what the members of the group had in common. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, they formed a small circle. A sixth-year Gryffindor held a guitar in his lap, and a few students had Bibles. All looked up and smiled as she approached, and Hannah Abbot waved. They moved aside, and she and Daphne joined them.

"Teri, this is Fiona, Rosemary, Joel, Gideon, and Christopher." Daphne indicated each member of the circle in turn. "You know Hannah and Seamus already."

"We were just teaching each other some hymns," Christopher said, shifting the guitar so it rested more comfortably on his lap. "Funny, how none of us seem to know the same ones."

"Well, when some of us don't even go to church, per se," Seamus began, but Daphne elbowed him playfully.

"It's called _synagogue_, and it's far more biblical."

"Paul went to church."

"Jesus went to synagogue."

"If you say so."

Daphne narrowed her eyes, but smiled as she did it. "It's in the_ Bible_!"

Christopher laughed. "All right, you two. What song were we on?"

No one seemed to remember, so Christopher began strumming a slow, pretty tune. When he began singing, Asteria blinked back tears.

_How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord  
Is laid for your faith in his excellent Word!  
What more can he say, than to you he hath said  
To you who for refuge to Jesus have fled? _

_Fear not, I am with thee, oh be not dismayed  
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.  
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand  
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand. _

She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. It soothed her spirit, a balm over wounds she had denied. The sound of her fellow students- fellow believers- singing was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard. The words, written so long ago, seemed penned especially for her.

_The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose  
I will not, I will not, desert to his foes.  
That soul, though all Hell should endeavor to shake  
I will never, no never, no never forsake. _

Her resolve shattered as the last notes were strummed. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she felt Daphne pull her close. When her tears were spent, she opened her eyes. Every student in the circle was looking at her, wearing the same soft smile, the same gentle, sympathetic eyes. No one asked her if she was all right, or if something was wrong. They had already come to the right conclusion.

Asteria sniffed, blew her nose, and laughed a little. "I like that song. What's it called?"

* * *

_The song is called "How Firm a Foundation," if anyone was wondering. _

_And I do have an explanation as to why Daphne and Asteria are Jewish and Christian, which I will work into later chapters. _


	19. Letter Seven

_First of all, thank you to JoStone, The Glowing Mischief, L.A.H.H., ilovepi, tenneyshoes and Sister to the Dark Lord for the reviews. _

* * *

_I only visited the Room of Requirement a handful of times after Neville disappeared. Truth be told, I wondered why he didn't do it sooner. The Carrows had been talking for some time about getting rid of him, which is why he was assigned so many detentions in the few weeks before his disappearance. They set it up more or less as a trap: Neville would be assigned to torture someone, he would refuse, Alecto would smack him or cut him up a bit, and he'd be assigned another detention, this time as the victim. I think they were hoping one of the students would go too far and kill him, so I warned him. After the fourth (and angriest) warning, he finally took my advice and fled. A sizable portion of the school soon followed suit. Slytherin was the only House that didn't lose a single student, but I assure you that it was not for lack of DA members. Even those few who hadn't formally joined Dumbledore's Army wanted to flee, but Millicent, Theo and I convinced them that leaving would be a bad idea. One disappearance and suddenly your House is a target for interrogations. _

_Of all the spies, Asteria had it the hardest. Supporting the Carrows was the Slytherin thing to do, and no one looked twice at a Slytherin who wanted to impress them. As long as we kept our true colors hidden and pretended to help Amycus search the school, we were safe. We gathered with some of our anti-Carrow Housemates and passed notes with rude jokes on them, smirking behind our hands, stayed sane, and survived. _

_Asteria, on the other hand, was alone. _

_Ravenclaw was not the most active House in the anti-Carrow movement. They had fewer DA members than Hufflepuff, and the members they did have were far outnumbered by the Gryffindors. But her Housemates still disliked the Carrows, so the disappearances and subsequent interrogations automatically made her an outcast. Never mind that her love for the Carrows was a sham, or that her pro-pureblood rhetoric was lifted straight from her Muggle Studies books and twisted just enough to avoid plagiarism. She was Alecto's lap-dog, and her Housemates took every opportunity to kick her. She walked through the corridors with her head held high, but we all knew she was one sharp word away from crying. _

_One day, she found me in the library. She walked slowly, as if she had all the time in the world—but I could tell she wanted to break into a run. _

_"I had a question, about my Muggle Studies homework," she said. "Do you mind if we walk for a bit?" _

_"No, not at all." _

_Pansy dropped her book to the table with a heavy sigh. "Honestly, Greengrass, can't you ask someone else?" _

_Asteria clutched the strap of her school bag. "Draco's grades are the highest I know of. I thought he'd be the best person to ask." _

_I closed the book and set it aside, then stood. "She's right. I'll just leave you to your studying, then." We left the library quickly, then slowed to a more leisurely pace when we reached the corridor. "So. You had a question?" _

_We chatted about Muggles and wizards all the way across the floor, up a flight of stairs, and through another few corridors. Meaning, she asked questions the Carrows would approve of, and I gave her the standard Death Eater responses. So focused was I on giving the right answers that I hardly noticed when we reached the seventh floor. I dropped my voice to a whisper. _

_"What are we doing up here?" _

_She put a finger to her lips and listened. A quick spell confirmed that no one had followed us; she grabbed my wrist and pulled me along. I knew where we were going even before the familiar door appeared. She pulled me through, closing it as quickly and as quietly as she could.  
_

_"We're almost out of healing potion," she said, "and the Carrows have even more interrogations this week. You wouldn't mind making some more?" _

_I nodded. They'd put me down for one of them, and I knew Asteria was scheduled for a few as well. "I'll get to work, then." _

_There were more students in the Room than there had been when I'd last seen it—far more, it seemed, than had ever joined Dumbledore's Army. An optimist would say the DA had more supporters than we knew. A cynic would say the DA had plenty of sympathizers, but relatively few members who were willing to get their hands dirty during the crusade against the Carrows. But when given a chance to flee, these so-called allies were among the first in the charge. _

_Whatever the reason, the Room was massive, filled with white hammocks and students milling about. On closer examination, I saw the hammocks were clustered into groups, with different banners over each one: Gryffindor's red and gold, Ravenclaw's blue and bronze, Hufflepuff's yellow and black. I felt a stab of guilt, not seeing Slytherin's green and silver, but knew it couldn't be helped. Students raised their heads and watched curiously as we passed by; occasionally, one would wave. I think most of them hadn't known I was on their side until that moment. Or maybe they just hadn't believed it. _

_Asteria found a spot with enough room for a cauldron and stopped. "This all right?" _

_"This is fine." A cauldron appeared, along with a few ingredients. I set to work, and Asteria pulled up a chair. _

_"It's nice here, isn't it?" She gave a happy sigh. "The Carrows can't find us." _

_"I'm sure they could, if they tried." _

_"They couldn't get in," she said. "Neville's made sure of it." _

_I tossed a few ingredients into the cauldron. "How so?" _

_"It's all about closing the loopholes," Neville said from behind me. I jumped, but fortunately didn't make any mistakes on the potion. He came closer, wrinkling his nose as he peered into the cauldron. "More healing stuff?" _

_I nodded. _

_"The Carrows have started putting us students down for interrogations," Asteria said quietly._

_Neville's eyes widened. "Who are they interrogating?" _

_"Everyone who doesn't fall on their faces in reverence when the Carrows walk by." _

_"Are they using the Cruciatus Curse or the new curses?" _

_"Both." I saw her suppress a shudder. "I fake the first one as much as I can." _

_"We all do," I put in. "And I'm tweaking this potion to work faster than it usually does." I hoped that would settle him, but it didn't. He drew back, sinking into a chair that appeared, burying his hands in his hair. The quiet hum of activity went on around us, but the Room seemed suddenly quieter. When he raised his head, his eyes had a hollow look in them. _

_"I'm turning myself in." _

_Asteria looked at him in alarm. "You can't!" _

_"Look, they want me, don't they? Enough to torture people I've never met. If I turn myself in..." _

_"If you turn yourself in, you'll have me to contend with," I told him. _

_Neville got to his feet, fists clenched. "I don't have a choice!" _

_"Yes, you do. Stay here, where it's safe, or go out there and get yourself killed. I'd take the first option, if I were you." _

_"Oh,_ I'd _get myself killed! So everyone else is immune to these curses, are they?" _

_"You bleed the same as they do, Neville." I glanced pointedly at the cut on his cheek, his black eye, the burns that still hadn't healed completely. "And a lot more than they have, from what I can see." _

_Neville exhaled angrily, pacing; then he turned, knocking the chair on its side as he headed for the door. I guess he heard me coming, because he broke into a run, but I overtook him and blocked his path. He glared. _

_"Out of my way." _

_I folded my arms. "Not until you start talking sense." _

_"I am talking sense. One person, instead of hundreds...it's perfectly reasonable." _

_"Not if that one person is the leader of Dumbledore's Army." He tried to go around, but I grabbed his arm and spoke again, quieter this time. "Do you have any idea how many Slytherins support you, Neville?" He looked up, waiting for the answer. "Dozens. Maybe more than that." _

_"Lots of Ravenclaws, too," Asteria added. _

_"And I'm sure all of those Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs on the outside are cheering you on. You turn yourself in, and their fearless leader is suddenly gone. Just like that." I shook my head. "It'd be worse than if Potter turned up dead." _

_"I doubt that." He tried to get free, but I held fast. _

_"It would be for us. We don't have Potter anymore. We have _you_."_

_Neville looked at me as though I'd told him he would run for Minister and win. After a long moment, he averted his gaze; then he tugged his arm free and started for the door again. This time, he nearly reached it. Furious, frustrated, close to panic, I shouted the only word I knew would stop him. _

_"IMPERIO!" _

_The Room went silent. Someone somewhere dropped a quill, and we all heard it. I stood there, feeling the heat of two hundred stares, my wand still trained on Neville, who stood completely still, awaiting my command. A sudden twinge of guilt threatened to break the connection, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. I told Neville to turn, and he did. The whole of Dumbledore's Army followed him with their eyes as he retraced his path back to me. When he was safely away from the door, I lifted the curse. Instantly, the old Neville returned, anger and indignation filling the brown eyes that had recently been blank. _

_"You little _bastard_! You Imperiused me!" _

_"State the obvious, why don't you."_

_He gave an incredulous laugh. "I can't believe... After all we've done for you!" _

_I took a step forward, my own rage mounting. "And what about us? After all Dumbledore's Army has done for you, you'd go and throw your life away? Leave us in the cold without a leader, without a symbol, without a plan! Do you want us to fail?" _

_"You'd do fine without me." _

_"No, we wouldn't. You know we wouldn't." I took a quick breath to steady myself, then tried a different tack. "Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, we _like _you? Because I don't think I'm the only one in the room who didn't want you to go to your death." _

_"You're the only one who'd Imperius me." _

_"I'd do it again. And again, and again. As many times as it took to keep you from being stupid, I'd do it." _

_Neville stood there for a minute, glaring at me. But he was softening. Finally, he stormed past me, righted his chair, and sat, arms folded, mouth tight, eyes blazing. _

_"There. Happy, Malfoy?" _

_"Yes. Very." _

_Asteria's voice came as a shock; I guess neither of us expected her to speak. "We can manage, Neville. We'll do all right." _

_"No one will be seriously hurt," I said. "We'll make sure of it." _

_Neville inhaled, then exhaled. "Fine. Just be careful, will you?" _

_I dared a smile. "As long as you don't leave this room." _

_He nodded, staring at the fire crackling beneath the cauldron. _


	20. Asteria, Part Thirteen

_Thanks to the following reviewers: The Glowing Mischief, L.A.H.H., tenneyshoes and solemnly-up-to-no-good!  
_

* * *

May First dawned bright and cheery, the nicest day in recent memory. The sun made its first enthusiastic appearance in months, warming the soft green grass and bright wildflowers that dotted the grounds. Small, puffy white clouds ambled across a brilliant blue sky. Even the Forbidden Forest looked inviting, tender leaves rustling in the breeze.

Asteria tried to avoid looking out the window, but the view beckoned her. In nearly every class she found herself sitting at her desk, chin in her hand, watching squirrels chase each other around tree trunks, gazing longingly at the sparrows fluttering past. She wanted nothing more than to kick off her shoes and race outside across the sun-kissed earth. Maybe she could talk to Alecto. If she looked pathetic enough, the teacher might lift the restriction for her favorite student.

No sooner had the thought entered her mind than Asteria dismissed it. The grounds were off-limits to students. Period. And even if she _was_ allowed a brief respite from the rule, her Housemates' jealousy would crush any joy she found. So she trudged from classroom to classroom, daydreaming through her lessons while paying just enough attention to pass the coming exam.

There was plenty of room at the Ravenclaw table for her Housemates to avoid her. She didn't bat an eye when those nearest scooted away as she took a seat, but quietly filled her plate. A book, propped open, made the frosty reception more bearable, even if she paid little attention to the contents.

Midway through the meal, Amycus stood at the front of the Hall and slapped his meaty palms together. The sound, magically amplified, made Asteria jump.

"Everyone, to your Houses. Now. No questions."

Asteria stood, absently closing her book and tucking it under her arm as she glanced all around for any clue as to what the order meant. She caught a glimpse of Draco, rising from the Slytherin table, face pale. Their eyes met, and she tilted her head slightly. _What's going on? _

Draco glanced at Amycus, then lifted his left forearm slightly. Not enough to be conspicuous, but the message was clear. Her stomach dropped. The Dark Lord had something to do with the sudden evacuation. Amycus called him forward, and he hurried over. She only had a moment to observe before Alecto caught her wrist. Asteria jumped, drew a breath, and made her best attempt at a smile. "Yes, Professor?"

"Get me inside."

Asteria blinked, stalling as her racing mind searched for the meaning of her teacher's demand. "Inside...inside where?"

"Your common room. I need inside."

She nodded. Alecto's fingers dug into her wrist, and there was no room for argument. "That's easy. Yes. I can do that."

Alecto smiled. To Asteria, it had never seemed nastier. She didn't loosen her grip. "Good girl."

They joined the rest of the Ravenclaws, pushing ahead to the front of the pack. Asteria dared another glance at Draco, but he was already leaving the Hall, jaw clenched, face forward. He didn't seem to notice the other students who ducked and bobbed around him.

* * *

Asteria had never thought of the Ravenclaw common room as difficult to enter. The questions asked by the door were thought-provoking, but not impossible. She sometimes needed a moment to find the correct answer, and during her first year she had required the help of an older student more than once. But she had always learned, and the story had always ended with her inside the common room. Anyone, she thought, could enter Ravenclaw's graceful tower, given a little time.

Now, with Alecto beside her, Asteria realized how wrong she had been.

"Why does the werewolf howl?"

Alecto drew back a step. "Why does...Greengrass, what kind of a password is this?"

"It's a question, Professor. You have to answer it to get inside."

"That's what I have _you_ for."

Asteria smiled, but it felt thin. "It's a simple question, Professor."

"I don't have time for this! Give it the bloody password!"

Behind her, the other Ravenclaws murmured their agreement. They might not approve of Alecto Carrow entering their tower, but they certainly didn't want to be stuck in the stairwell all night. Asteria drew a breath and turned to the eagle, answering as calmly as she could.

"The werewolf howls because he knows he is cursed."

"Beautiful in its simplicity," the eagle said, and the door opened. Alecto marched through, stood by a chair, and placed her hand on the back, staking her claim.

"Get to your dorms, all of you," she snapped. "Early bed tonight."

The Ravenclaws, like Asteria, followed Alecto's orders without complaint. There was no point in arguing.

* * *

Once upstairs, the fifth-year girls began talking.

"Can you believe this? Sending us upstairs without any supper!"

"We got supper, Trudy," Asteria said, taking her pajamas from her trunk. "Just not very much of it."

"Imagine that, Asteria Greengrass agreeing with the Carrows." Violet Williams kicked her shoes off. They slapped the wall, one after another.

"I didn't agree with them. They didn't say anything."

Ruby Thompson sat on her bed. "Do any of you know what this is about?" She glanced from face to face, but Trudy and Violet both shrugged.

"Maybe they're planning more interrogations," Violet said.

"Why would they need to evacuate us?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they'll kill someone and they need us in our common rooms to do it."

"That explains why they didn't grab their victim in the Great Hall, where the whole school could see it," Asteria said sarcastically. She sat on her bed. "This has something to do with You-Know-Who."

All three girls stared at her.

"And you know this _how_?" Trudy asked.

Asteria shrugged. "Malfoy told me." She drew the curtains round her bed without another word.

* * *

No one slept that night.

The other girls tried, tossing and turning beneath their covers. Occasionally Asteria heard them strike up a whispered conversation, their words muffled by the thick blue velvet surrounding her bed. Ruby tapped against her curtains once or twice, but Asteria ignored her. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts. Shortly after eleven, she closed her eyes and tried to doze.

A loud crack snapped her eyes open.

Asteria drew the curtains aside just enough to see her dormitory, but all she saw were the other three girls, searching in vain for the source of the sound. They paused, stared at each other with wide eyes, and listened. Without a word, all four crawled out of bed and hurried downstairs in their bare feet. The stone steps were cold, and she took them quickly. At the bottom of the stairs, Asteria halted. Trudy slammed into her.

"Greengrass! What are you-"

Trudy's question died when she looked past her Housemate.

Luna Lovegood stood in the common room, wand still aimed at Alecto, who lay unconscious and slumped against the wall. But it was the raven-haired boy beside her, watching the Ravenclaws pour down the stairs, that commanded their attention. Asteria would know him anywhere. Ruby breathed the name.

"Harry Potter."


	21. Asteria, Part Fourteen

_Thanks to solemnly-up-to-no-good, L.A.H.H., tenneyshoes, Analie Janes and The Glowing Mischief for the lovely reviews! _

* * *

Every student in the school was there. Huddled together in twos or threes, they sat at their House tables, watching, waiting, worrying. Faces that had hitherto been hidden in the Room of Requirement suddenly reappeared among their Housemates, but the joyous reunions were few. The Great Hall was unusually quiet; the only sound was the soft hum of several hundred whispers. Tonight, there was only one topic: Harry Potter's return to Hogwarts. Asteria stayed aloof, clutching her traveling cloak close to her shoulders, half-listening to her Housemates' conversations. "About time" and "What now?" flitted through the air.

"If I may have your attention, please," McGonagall said, silencing the whispers. All eyes turned to her. "In a few moments, we shall begin the evacuation process. The evacuation will be overseen by Mr. Filch and Madame Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organize your House and take your charges, in an orderly manner, to the evacuation point."

Ernie MacMillan stood from the Hufflepuff table. "And what if we want to stay and fight?"

A few students, mostly Gryffindors, applauded.

"If you are of age, you may stay."

Murmurs rippled across the Great Hall- underage students who disapproved of their teacher's plan. Asteria's sense of urgency warred with her desire for safety. "What about our things?" she called out. If McGonagall allowed her to retrieve her things, she might take advantage of the opportunity to escape the impending evacuation. "Our trunks, our owls?"

McGonagall met her gaze. "We have no time to collect possessions," she said firmly. "The important thing is to get out of here safely."

Asteria sat back, cheeks flaming. McGonagall's message was clear: You're not staying in this castle. Should she obey? Or was this God's way of informing her that he wanted her to avoid the coming battle? A thought, unbidden, entered her mind, and she relayed it to the Almighty as a promise: _If the Slytherins stay, I'll stay. _

"Where's Professor Snape?" Millicent called out.

"He has, to borrow the common phrase, done a bunk." Cheers rose from the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Asteria joined the Slytherins in their silence. A long look at their table showed Daphne, Millicent and Theodore engrossed in a furtive discussion. Harry Potter passed by, toward the Gryffindor table, and they raised their heads long enough to watch him; then returned to their conversation.

"We have already placed protection around the castle," Professor McGonagall went on, "but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your Prefects."

Suddenly, a voice boomed through the Great Hall. High and cold, like a knife drawn over skin, it chilled Asteria to the core.

"I know that you are preparing to fight," it said, and Asteria instinctively knew who it belonged to. Her younger Housemates screamed and clutched each other, looking around for the source. "Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

Asteria glanced at the Slytherin table. Some, Parkinson among them, nudged each other with smug smiles. Daphne, Millicent, and Theodore traded looks with each other, then a few sixth-years, their faces grim and stony like the silence that followed.

"Give me Harry Potter," said the Dark Lord, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

The voice vanished like a foul wind, leaving students shivering in its wake. Every head turned, every eye found the boy standing in the corner; then, slowly, Pansy Parkinson rose from the Slytherin table and pointed a shaking arm at the boy in question.

"But he's there! Potter's _there_! Somebody grab him!"

One by one, the Gryffindors stood and filed toward Potter. Asteria watched, clenching handfuls of her robes, as they formed a semicircle facing not Potter, but Pansy. Wands were drawn, fists were clenched, and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuff tables emptied as well. Only the Slytherin table remained seated, Daphne and her co-conspirators still absorbed in their conversation.

"Thank you, Miss Parkinson." McGonagall's voice was clipped, brisk. "You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your House could follow."

Benches scraped the floor as the Slytherins stood, turned, and followed Pansy. Asteria held her breath as the table emptied, releasing it when she saw who remained behind: her sister, Millicent, Theodore, and a handful of sixth-years. Daphne didn't smile, but stared straight ahead, her blue eyes alight with a fire Asteria had never seen before.

"Ravenclaws, follow on!"

Asteria stood, beckoning her Housemates to do the same, and led them out of the Hall.

* * *

Terry Boot was among those who chose to evacuate. Asteria watched him stand, bid farewell to his companions, and joined the other Ravenclaws as they marched toward the door. Her heart pounded louder with each step. Some Slytherins had stayed; some had left. Did that free her from her promise, or was she still bound by her word?

Terry interrupted her reverie with an elbow to the ribs. Surprised, she looked into his face. His eyes searched hers for only a moment; then he took her arm and slowed his pace, allowing some of their fellow Ravenclaws to file past. A few steps more toward the evacuation point and he did it again. Not until they had reached the back of the line did Asteria realize what he was doing. When Pomfrey's back was turned, Terry pulled her into a stairwell. There they waited.

"Hold on," he whispered, back pressed to the wall.

"How did you know...?" she began.

"That you wanted to stay?" Terry smiled slightly, sadly. "Because I know _you_." He paused, listened, and dared a glance out. "Once they're gone, follow me. I'll take you to the others."

* * *

They hurried up staircases, through eerily quiet corridors, and met the rest of Dumbledore's Army in the Gryffindor common room. When they arrived, Draco was already pacing the rug nervously. Asteria could only stare.

"Draco? What are you doing here?"

He frowned. "I could ask _you_ the same question."

"The Carrows assigned him here," a sixth-year Gryffindor said. "Told him to watch in case Potter decided to show his face."

"As if I needed more proof they're trying to kill me," Draco muttered. The Fat Lady's portrait swung closed, and he looked up, swearing. "I thought I told you to evacuate with the others!"

Daphne lifted an eyebrow. "And we decided not to listen to you."

Draco pointed at the portrait hole. "Get out. Now."

"And go _where_?" Millicent swept her arm in a circle, as if to indicate the castle that would soon be under siege. "In case you haven't noticed, we're surrounded."

"Yeah. I noticed." He ran a hand through his hair, swearing again. "This is bad. You know where the rest of the overage Slytherins went?"

"To the Dark Lord," Theodore said. "We were aware."

"And you know what he'll do when he finds out where _you_ are?"

"Yes, Draco, he'll try to kill us. I know how he works." Theo took a step forward. "And when he does, we'll simply return the favor. It's the Slytherin way."

"Like the Chicago way!"

All heads turned to look at the brown-haired boy who spoke, a boy whose face hadn't been seen in Hogwarts for over a year. Colin Creevey.

"I'm sorry, the_ what_?" Daphne said.

"The Chicago way! You know...'you put one of my men in the hospital, I put one of your men in the morgue.' Or something like that." Colin scratched his head. "I can't quite remember how all the words went."

The confusion hung in the air for a moment; then Neville clapped his hands together. "Come on, let's lay out a strategy. Draco? You saw You-Know-Who's plan of attack, right?"

"I have the general idea."

"Any ideas for a counterattack?"

Draco exhaled, raking his fingers through his hair, then motioned the other members forward. "Come on. I've only got time to say this once, and you can't give any hint you heard it from me."

They came, huddling together, and listened to his plan for the coming storm.


	22. Letter Eight

_Thank you to prongs and lily flower, Alix, The Glowing Mischief, tenneyshoes, solemnly-up-to-no-good, end butterfly and L.A.H.H. for the reviews! _

_I apologize for the long delay with this chapter. Hopefully, the next one will not take so long…._

* * *

_Our strategy was rather basic: Place our strongest at the most easily breached points; travel in pairs to lessen the chance of death during an ambush; keep in constant contact through Patronuses; and retreat if outnumbered or overwhelmed. You wouldn't believe how angry the Gryffindors became about the last point. _

_"If I'm outnumbered, I'm fighting until they kill me," Neville said. His Housemates applauded. _

_"If you fight until they kill you," I told him, "then we'll have one less person on our side, and they'll have the confidence of one more kill." _

_"But if we retreat, won't they just keep sending in more and more?" Ginny asked. From her tone, she may have been talking to an ignorant child. "They'll just keep coming after us, won't they?" _

_"If that happens and you retreat, you can send a Patronus to whoever's nearby. You'll have a better chance of keeping them out that way." My patience was wearing thin. I had seen more fighting than they ever would—and suffered the consequences—while they were at home in bed, and here they were, acting as though it were the other way round. "Look. If you want to die tonight, then by all means don't retreat. But if you want to win this battle, you'll do what I say. Understood?" _

_Nobody spoke. All eyes stayed on me: wide-eyed stares from some, open fear from others, and mostly anger and disdain from the Gryffindors. I wasn't going to get through to them, so I sighed and changed the subject. _

_"I'm supposed to find Potter. If you'll all kindly pretend to stop me while I pretend to find him, I'd be much obliged." _

_Asteria stood. "I'll go with you." _

_"Stay with your sister." I tried to brush past her, but she caught my arm. _

_"You said we should travel in pairs. As we're the only two spies who haven't blown our covers..." She glanced at her sister and the rest of the Slytherins, then back at me. "You'll fare better with a partner." _

_"You'd be safer with the others." _

_"And _you'd_ be safer with me." She folded her arms and lifted her chin. "I know just as many Dark curses as you do, Draco. I can feign loyalty just as well as you can." _

_Sighing, I finally nodded and led her out of the Gryffindor common room. We were running out of time, and I couldn't waste any more of it arguing with her. _

_Like many people that night, I didn't think that battle would be the one that ended the war. To me, it was just another bloody, tiresome battle I had to survive, hopefully with my cover intact. Of course I wanted it to end that night. Everyone did—especially the other Slytherins. But at the time, that was just another empty hope. When the dust settled and the casualties were counted, I'd still be the Dark Lord's servant. _

_Once we'd left, Asteria slowed her pace. I didn't argue. The first skirmish of a battle is always the worst, and the first skirmish of your first battle becomes the stuff of nightmares. I think Asteria suspected this, if not consciously, then instinctively. "So where do you think he is?" _

_"I don't know." I stopped. "He came to your common room, didn't he?" _

_"Yes." _

_"Do you know why?" _

_She shook her head._

_I ran my fingers through my hair. "Great. So how can we avoid him if we don't know where he is?" _

_Asteria paused for a minute; then she turned and strode down the corridor. I jogged to catch up. _

_"Where are you going?" _

_"To get the potions you made. We still had some in reserve, last I checked, and I think we'll need them tonight." _

_She was right, of course, and I couldn't help admiring her quick thinking. If we went to the Room of Requirement to find the potions, spent a few minutes searching for them and a few more finding creative ways to hide them, then we'd give Potter a head start and perhaps lose him in the castle. _

_We slipped inside and made our way through the familiar piles of junk, looking for the bust with the badly discolored tiara; I'd hidden the potions there. No sooner did it come into view, though, than I heard a voice. I froze. _

"_What is it?" _

_I held up my hand, and Asteria fell silent. The voices drew closer. _

"_Let's split up. Look for the bust with the badly discolored tiara." _

_I swore under my breath. I'd know that voice anywhere—and at the moment, it was the last voice I wanted to hear. I sank to the floor, hoping he hadn't seen me. _

"_Potter?" Asteria whispered._

_I nodded. _

_She exhaled long and soft, then pressed her lips together. "You'll have to engage him." _

"_Are you mental?" _

"_You've seen him, Draco. You know he's here. If you engage him, you can say you tried to get him but he gave you the slip." She shrugged. "It's more convincing than pretending you didn't see him at all." _

_I could see the wisdom in her plan—especially when accounting for the Dark Lord's skill with Legilimency—but enacting it was the last thing I wanted to do. I paused, pretending to think it over. _

"_What's he looking for?" she asked suddenly. _

"_I…I don't know. They're heading right for our stash." Good thing he didn't know who made them, I thought. Knowing Potter, he'd likely smash the bottles and laugh in my face, claiming he'd destroyed my poisons. _

"_If you figured out what he's here for," she said slowly, "and you brought it to You-Know-Who instead, he might give you a break for not catching Potter." _

"_You mean torture instead of kill me." _

"_You'll still be alive, won't you?" _

_I sighed. "Yeah. I'll still be alive." _

"_All right then." She gave a small smile and got to her feet. When she helped me stand, her hand was ice-cold. "Let's go." _


	23. Asteria, Part Fifteen

_Thank you to Tathiana, Analie Janes, rhodapenmark2008, The Glowing Mischief, yellow 14, solemnly-up-to-no-good and L.A.H.H. for the reviews! _

* * *

Asteria's heart raced as she got to her feet. This was it, her first confrontation of the ensuing battle. Knowing Potter, she and Draco would both make it out alive, perhaps with a few new bumps and bruises. She simply had to adopt the façade she used with Alecto, and her cover as well as Draco's would be preserved.

Yet as she skirted around a junk-laden shelf, scanning the narrow corridors, she realized there were a thousand other places she'd rather be.

Draco stopped, held up a hand, and listened. "I hear them." He motioned her forward. She followed on tiptoe, the voices of Potter and his friends growing louder and clearer with every step.

"Teri, do you remember those curses Alecto taught you?"

Her stomach did a somersault. "Yes. Why?"

"Just…keep them in mind."

"But I won't need them, will I?" She ducked a shadow that had materialized across her path. Once it was past, she thought it looked suspiciously like a skeletal arm. She shuddered and hurried on. "I mean, we're just getting…whatever it is they're after, right?"

Draco was silent for a long moment, but that could have just been from the cobweb he was trying to brush from his hair. "We'll have to sell this, Teri. You don't have to hurt anyone. Just fire the curses."

Asteria nodded, nonetheless picturing a scene where Potter or Granger or Weasley, meaning to save the other two, jumped in front of her aimless curse.

* * *

She was never sure how long it took to find them. The logical part of her brain said it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but she and Draco wandered through towers of junk for what felt like days. She kept walking, one foot before the other, creating a mental list of curses and hexes. Stunners? She'd use those. Unforgivables? Only if there was no chance she'd hit anyone. Sectumflagrante? Her stomach twisted at the thought.

When Potter came into view, she jumped.

He stood a few yards away from the bust that held the potions, but his back was turned, and he glanced frantically up and down the shelves.

"Looking for something, Potter?"

Potter whirled round, clutching his wand. His green eyes glinted, and she saw his jaw clench. "Malfoy."

Draco rested his hand on one corner of the cupboard. "I asked, are you looking for something?"

"That's none of your business, Malfoy."

"I'm afraid it _is _my business." He removed his hand and folded his arms, then nodded pointedly at Potter's wand. "Give me my wand back and we'll call it even."

Potter raised the wand; a small smile lifted one side of his mouth. "I won it fair and square. You want it, you'll have to take it back."

As they spoke, Asteria kept her gaze on Potter. This line of questioning had to lead somewhere; with any luck, Draco would trick Potter into announcing what he was searching for. Her fingers tightened around her wand, her mind racing with the possibilities. She focused on Potter's face, hoping to discern a clue from his expression.

Draco stepped forward. "I don't have time for this. Just give it here, will you?"

Potter nodded at the wand in Draco's hand. "You have a wand. Who did you take it from?"

"It's my mother's."

Potter laughed, and Asteria saw him glance up. She followed his gaze, but he had already averted it. Somewhere near her….somewhere nearby….was what Potter searched for.

Draco came forward, and Potter backed up a step. "Give me my wand, Potter."

There! Potter looked up again, longer this time, and Asteria followed his gaze to the tiara atop the bust. Could that really be it?

Asteria didn't lose a moment in wondering. With one swift motion, she toppled the bust, wig and tiara falling to the floor. With a cry, Potter lunged for the tiara, but Asteria snatched it up before he could grasp it.

"Run!" Draco cried, at the same moment Potter called for Weasley and Granger to "Hurry, they're over here!"

Hugging the tiara to her chest with both hands, Asteria ran. She wound her way through a few shelves, stopped, and spun in a circle. None of this junk looked familiar, and the exit had vanished. Should she shout for Draco's help and betray her position, or—

Asteria ducked at the same moment something _whooshed_ past her head, and looked up as a pair of feet zoomed by. Not bothering to check who they belonged to, she bolted in the opposite direction, still clutching the tiara. Maybe she could find a broom of her own—but the quickest way was with a Summoning Charm, and she didn't dare risk dropping the tiara to use her wand. If she could only turn her wand hand just enough to aim it at the shelves….

Another something whistled past, and she didn't have time to duck. As it doubled back, she slammed her back against the nearest shelf. Two books, a bone, and several bottles fell, glass shattering as they hit the floor. Asteria screamed at a sudden explosion from one of the broken bottles, then held her breath as a cloud of reddish smoke crept up from the floor. She tried to lunge forward, but Potter swooped forward on his broom, forcing her back again. Her stomach clenched and her heart raced. The smoke was rising now and her lungs yearned for air, but there was no telling what might happen if she breathed in the crimson-brown haze; Potter was closing in and she should just let him have the stupid tiara; but Draco would be in even more danger if he returned with nothing at all…

Just then, her mind went blank. Suddenly and blissfully blank. Nothing to think about, no worries to speak of, just a kindly voice telling her to hold her breath. So she did. Her starved lungs ached in protest, but there was nothing else to do; no one in her head but the voice.

_Come here, _the voice told her. _Duck down and hurry this way. _

Asteria did as she was told. Scarcely a minute passed before she was allowed her to breathe again, and she sucked in a lungful of air. She felt herself being pulled onto a broom and wrapped her arms around her rescuer. Her thoughts came flooding back.

Draco. She had her arms wrapped around his waist as he steered the broom through the Room of Requirement. Her right hand held her wand in a death grip; her left clutched the tiara like a lifeline.

"I think I saw the exit over here," he called, then banked sharply to the right. Potter's curse missed them by a few inches.

"I'll fire back," she shouted, but Draco drove his elbow into her ribs.

"Just hang on to me," he ordered. "Don't let go!"

Asteria buried her face in his shoulder as another curse flew past her head. Jets of light rose up from the ground and hit the ceiling; she didn't need to look to see that Weasley or Granger or both were firing curses and hexes from the floor.

Draco shouted a spell; she didn't hear which one. The next thing she knew, the broom had landed and Draco had his hand around her wrist. She opened her eyes as he pulled her down the corridor, down a flight of stairs, through another corridor and into the first bathroom he saw. Once there, she collapsed against the wall, gasping for air.

"You're all right?"

She nodded. "I'm….I'm fine."

Draco leaned against the wall, panting. "Sorry I Imperiused you."

Asteria swallowed a gulp of air. "It's okay." If she had to be Imperiused, she supposed Draco was the best one for it. He had led her out of the smoke and into safety, hadn't he? "Did we lose them?"

"I think so. You've still got the diadem, don't you?"

He knew she did; she'd held it in plain view the entire time. Asteria nodded anyway, and dropped it to the floor. It hit the stone with a clatter.

Draco lifted it, inspecting every inch of the twisted and tarnished metal, and paled a shade.

Asteria looked at him curiously. "What's wrong?"

He stared at the tiara for a minute longer, then shook his head. "I'm not taking this to him."

"You're…why not? Draco, what's wrong?"

Draco took her hand and pressed her fingers to the diadem. "Do you feel that?"

"Feel…?" Her question died before she asked it. A tiny, icy beat had reached her fingertips, like a metallic heart beating within the diadem. She swallowed hard. "What is it?"

"If it is what I think it is, then it's nothing to fool around with." He tucked the tiara into his robes. "Or give to the Dark Lord."

A moment of silence passed.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to destroy it." Draco strode toward the door, and she followed. "Don't ask me how."


	24. Asteria, Part Sixteen

_Thank you to Tathiana, L.A.H.H., yellow 14, solemnly-up-to-no-good, The Glowing Mischief, hardestofhearts and tenneyshoes for reviewing! _

* * *

Making her way through the corridors wasn't difficult at first, considering they were nearly vacant when she and Draco started out. Draco still insisted on slipping quietly through, halting at every corner and peering around carefully before proceeding.

"Quiet down, will you?" he hissed at the first stairway. "You're walking too loud."

"No louder than you," Asteria whispered, but lightened her step. Already muffled shouts and cracks had begun to echo off the stone walls. The thought that the cracks were curses and the shouts came from the victims of those curses made her shiver.

Draco held up his hand, and she pressed her back to the wall. She scarcely dared to move or breathe as he listened. Voices floated up the staircase, one harsh and angry, the other bold and defiant. Asteria would know it anywhere.

"Oh!" she gasped. "That's—"

"Neville," Draco finished. "I know. The other one's Dolohov."

"Will he…?" Asteria swallowed. "Will he be okay?"

"Chances are good he won't, if we don't help him." He tilted his head toward the staircase, ducked down and motioned for her to do the same; then he slowly descended. "Dolohov's mean. Really mean." He didn't elaborate, but from the way he pressed his lips together and shook his head, he didn't think it necessary.

"Isn't somebody with him? Ginny, I think."

"Two students against _him_?" Draco shook his head. "I've got to get down there."

Asteria grabbed his sleeve, but he tugged it free. "You can't help him! What if someone sees you?"

To Asteria's surprise, Draco smiled faintly. "They won't see me."

They crept down the stairs as quickly as they could, but it was tricky business. She tried to eye each step before she took it, giving her feet an idea of where they were going, but there was the matter of the curving staircase to consider, too, and the growing sounds of Neville's duel. Asteria tossed nervous glances through the thick stone rails, but saw no one. Neville's voice grew clearer as she and Draco descended.

"Stun him, Ginny, Stun him!"

"I'm trying!" Dolohov's next curse brought a shriek of pain from the young Weasley, and an enraged shout from Neville. Asteria forced herself to keep going, though she dreaded what she might see when she peered round the corner.

Draco didn't straighten at the bottom of the stairs. He continued toward the voices, still crouched down, only stopping when the light of the duelers' spells came into view—mere feet from where the strange, disastrous-looking colors lit the shadows. Once there, he stood against the wall, so still he might have been part of the stone. Asteria followed his lead, wishing she could tell him to back off, to retreat a yard or two before someone saw him...

Draco peered around the corner and swore softly. Daring a glance, Asteria saw why: Ginny lay Stunned, her wand a foot or so from her hand, while Neville stood his ground, favoring his right leg, wand aimed at a grinning Dolohov. Asteria couldn't see Neville's face, but from the way he stood, she knew he must be in pain.

"Last words, Longbottom?"

The smile flickered across Draco's face again. He raised his wand, pointing it not at Dolohov, but at Neville. "_Imperio._"

There was no time for shock. Asteria watched in amazement as the Imperiused Neville lifted his wand, more confidently this time.

"Yes, Dolohov, I do. _Petrificus Totalus!_"

Dolohov scarcely had time to react before the curse froze him in place and he fell with a thud. Neville marched forward, revived Ginny, and retrieved her wand. He handed it to her, then turned back to Dolohov. He kicked the Death Eater firmly in the stomach. Dolohov's eyes widened at the pain and he released a muffled grunt, but the curse kept him still.

"Would you like to Stun him, Ginny, or shall I do it?"

Ginny shrugged, brown eyes wide. "You brought him down, you do it."

Neville smiled; a quick glance at Draco showed the expression mirrored on his face. A moment later, Dolohov lay unconscious.

"There," Draco whispered, lifting the curse. "That should do it."

Asteria saw Ginny get to her feet, shaking her head. "Neville, that was—are you all right?"

Neville swayed as his injured leg buckled, and caught the wall for support. He raised his head, resting his eyes almost on the spot where Draco and Asteria hid.

"_Malfoy…._"

The way he said the name—nearer to a growl than to actual speech—made Asteria's stomach drop. She glanced at Draco, whose smile—slight to begin with—had vanished.

"We should go."

Draco swore. "I saved his life!"

"You still Imperiused him." Neville had begun to limp toward the wall that separated them, eyes burning. Asteria tugged Draco's sleeve. "Let's go. _Now._"

They didn't stop until Neville and Ginny's voices were well out of earshot.

* * *

Asteria was slightly winded when they finally stopped to rest, but she did so gratefully anyway. Draco quickly unlocked a classroom, pulled her inside, and crouched on the floor. She started to light her wand, but he put his hand over hers. "Don't give away our position."

Asteria could have pointed out that a tiny sliver of light bleeding from beneath the door of a classroom no one had yet noticed wasn't exactly a death sentence, but held her tongue. Draco had removed the tiara from his robes and set it on the floor. In the pale moonlight filtering through the window, she saw him staring at it as though he expected it to speak to him.

"How'll we get rid of it?" she breathed.

Draco ran a hand through his pale hair. "I-I don't know. I really don't know."

She took the tiara in her hands and tried to bend it, but it refused to budge. Setting it on the floor again, she pointed her wand at the tarnished diadem. A dozen spells paraded through her head, but she dismissed them all. "Which spell do you think'd work?"

He paused for a moment; then he aimed his own wand at the tiara. "_Sectumsempra._"

No effect. Asteria tried another one: "_Sectumflagrante._"

Still nothing. She looked up at Draco, who met her gaze. "Unforgiveables, maybe?"

He shook his head. In the pale light his grey eyes resembled two moons. "No…those only work on living things. With this, I think….I think we've got to…I don't know…melt it or something."

"Fiendfyre?"

Draco gave her an incredulous half-glare. "Yes. Burn down the school. Excellent idea, Teri."

Asteria blushed hotly, glad he couldn't see it in the dark. "It was just a suggestion." Somewhere in the distance, an explosion rumbled. She felt it in the pit of her stomach even before she heard it. "What about the Potions room?"

He looked at her sharply. "The Potions room?"

"Slughorn bought plenty of dangerous acids this year. One of them might work on this," she said, lifting the diadem and setting it down again. He snatched it up and stood, then helped her to her feet. Another explosion rumbled at the same moment he reached for the doorknob.

"Let's play it safe, shall we?"

Despite the situation, Asteria couldn't resist a smile. "So you won't Imperius anyone on the way down."

"No promises."


	25. Letter Nine

_Thank you to Tathiana, L.A.H.H., yellow 14, Aisling's Corner and The Glowing Mischief for reviewing! _

* * *

_The ends justify the means is what I told myself that night—the ends being the safety of my friends and allies, while the means was the Imperius Curse. _

_Neville never liked being Imperiused. Not that I blame him; losing all free will to another party who often does not have your best interests at heart is never a pleasant experience. And most of the time, I didn't like using Unforgiveables, not when there was another option open. But when I had to, there was no harm in having a little fun with it, was there? _

_Once Teri and I decided to make for the Potions room, the going got a bit easier. I suppose it was because we had a goal in mind, and a vague plan for reaching it. And along the way, we had allies to protect. _

_In retrospect, there were probably more efficient ways to protect our allies than by Imperiusing them. But honestly—and I know I've said this a thousand times but I'll say it again—it seemed like a good idea at the time. _

_We tried to keep out of sight as we ducked through the corridors, and were pretty successful for the most part. But that didn't keep us from seeing anyone else; and when I saw a situation that I just _knew _would end badly, I had to intervene. _

_On the fourth floor, for example, we spotted Hannah Abbot and Lavender Brown, all hunched up against the wall. I could tell they were trying to be inconspicuous, but they were doing a pretty bad job of it (anyone who has any knowledge of stealth tactics minus Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder knows it's best to remain as close to the wall as possible and only crouch down if there is something dangerous flying overhead, like a curse or an axe). So I Imperiused the both of them and made them stand up straight, backs against the wall, wands ready but not sticking out in the open. I wanted to stay and see how the approaching duel played out, but Asteria was tugging on my sleeve again, and I knew we had to move on. _

_On the third floor, we could hear shouts and curses somewhere nearby, but hadn't the time to go after them. _

_On the second floor, we ran across Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood—or rather, they ran across us, nearly knocking us over as they fled down the hall. I waited a moment, saw Greyback bounding after them, and before you could say "Draco Abraxas Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing?" I had him Imperiused and running pell-mell in the other direction. _

_When we reached the first floor, the chaos of battle reigned. I suppose it was that way everywhere else, too; we only saw bits and pieces on the other floors because we dashed from staircase to staircase. But in the entrance hall, there were at least a dozen duels taking place, most of which were easily seen from the steps. I took the lead, making my way down the stairs as quickly as I could while still ducking down. _

"_Don't look," I told her. "Just try not to watch." _

_I tried to take my own advice, keeping my eyes focused straight ahead as I hurried on, but I could still hear the cries echoing off the stone, see the flashes of light dancing at the corners of my vision. No sooner had we reached the bottom of the stairs than I heard another shout—the type of shout you always dread. _

_You've heard it before. According to Mum, the Wizengamot, and many other sources, you've caused such a shout more than once. It's the last cry of the dying, and my blood goes cold just thinking about it. I knew better than to look; but Asteria did not. Her yelp was partially masked by the din of battle, but it still made me jump and clap a hand over her mouth. _

"_Sh! Don't. Make. A sound." _

_She tore my hand free, blue eyes wild. "Did you see that? She killed him! She killed—" _

_I clapped my hand over her mouth again. "Don't think about it. Just…push it to the back of your mind. Can you do that?" _

_Her eyes filled, but she didn't protest. I managed a small smile, took her hand, and led her toward the dungeons. The confusion of battle masked our retreat. Perhaps I should have looked back, but at the moment, all I could think of was getting to the Potions room unseen. Asteria's hand was icy, and I hoped I hadn't been too harsh, but told myself there was nothing I could have said to change her reaction. _

_The dungeons were quiet, compared to the rest of the castle. I suppose no one wanted to fight in them; or perhaps we were simply the first to reach them. We raced past the Slytherin entrance, turned at the rows of cells, and finally came to a halt a short distance from the Potions classroom. Asteria collapsed against the nearest wall. At first I thought it was the run that had tired her; but when she drew her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them, I knew that wasn't it at all. _

"_Come on, Teri," I told her, motioning her to stand. She shot me a glare. _

"_You don't even know who it was." _

_For a long moment, I couldn't speak. That simple fact, softly spoken in the quiet dungeon, was an accusation: I didn't care. Someone had died moments ago, and I hadn't the decency to give that Someone a name. It wasn't true, but at the time, my emotions were a jumbled mess and I couldn't begin to sort them out. For all I could tell, she was right, and I'd rather destroy the diadem than bother about another casualty. _

"_No," I whispered. "Not yet. I'll find out later, I'm sure." _

_I had turned from her stare and now faced the door, but I could feel the heat of her anger nonetheless. "You don't want to know?" _

"_Of course I want to know. I just can't know _now. _Understand?" _

_She didn't answer. Her silence was worse than a slap in the face._

"_All right," I finally whispered. "Who was it?" _

_The silence lasted so long I thought she had changed her mind. "Christopher," she said at last. Her voice was thick. "Gryffindor. You didn't know him." _

"_You did." _

"_Barely." I heard her sniff. "He was nice. I'd just met him…." _

_Part of me wanted to leave her there, to give her time and not impede our destruction of the diadem. But I knew I couldn't. If I left her to her grief, she'd never get moving again. _

"_Come on," I said at last. She didn't budge. _

_I looked at her then, and a wave of guilt engulfed me. Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks red; even in the dimness I could see the tears staining the sleeves of her robes. I couldn't make her keep going. I couldn't ask that of her. _

_But I had no choice. _

_I walked a few paces, bent down a bit, and tapped her shoulder. "Come on. We need to go. Before the battle reaches the dungeons." _

_I don't know what finally made her stand. Maybe it was the threat of battle, or the muffled sounds of it coming from the upper levels. Perhaps she felt some small measure of release, sharing news of Christopher's death with me. Whatever the reason, she finally stood. I gave her the best smile I could manage and towed her along to the Potions room. _


	26. Asteria, Part Seventeen

_Thanks to Tathiana, L.A.H.H., The Glowing Mischief, Kalli98, goddess of the nigth and yellow 14 for reviewing this chapter, and to Off Dreaming for all the other reviews! Having you guys stick with me through this fic means so much! _

* * *

It happened in an instant.

One moment, Asteria was transferring her foot from the last stair to the stone floor of the entrance hall. The next moment, before her second foot followed the first, the dark-haired woman's curse hit Christopher square in the chest and he hit the floor hard. Dead and gone in a matter of seconds. The shock was like being drenched in ice water, and Asteria still shivered.

Draco towed her through the dungeons, never slackening his pace, stopping only when the Potions room was within sight. He didn't ask who had died. He didn't seem to care that one of his fellow students now lay dead. "Push it to the back of your mind," he told her. She wondered how he might fare if forced to take his own advice.

A minute or two was all it took before they reached their destination. Draco didn't bother testing the knob—the idea it might be unlocked was laughable—but blasted the hinges, then the knob, with a quick spell. The door groaned as it fell, and hit the floor with a mighty crash.

"Well, well, well," Draco said, stepping forward. "If it isn't Professor Slughorn. Stuck in the Potions room, are we?"

Slughorn lifted his wand. "You'll have to kill me before I let you touch anything in this room."

Draco took another step toward the teacher. "That can be arranged, you know."

A few quick strides put Slughorn between them and his cauldron. "Get out of here, Malfoy, or so help me I will…."

"You'll _what_, Professor?" He continued his slow, deliberate walk. "Tell me. What will you do?"

Asteria watched the two of them from the door. Draco wouldn't kill Slughorn, and Slughorn wouldn't kill Draco. At worst, the teacher would end up Stunned or Imperiused—but Draco still hadn't lifted his wand.

"Go back to your master."

"My _master _sent me here, for the time being, so if you will kindly stand aside—"

Asteria could bear it no longer. She raised her wand, shouting the curse with scarcely a thought.

"_Stupefy!_"

The Stunner caught Slughorn in the stomach. His eyes widened—from surprise or pain, she couldn't tell—then rolled back, and he fell, hitting the floor with a sickening thud.

Then, silence.

"I was just about to do that," Draco said after a moment.

"Of course you were," Asteria said, making her way toward the nearest cupboard. "Why else would you try and bully him into standing aside?"

"I didn't want to hurt him."

She rolled her eyes. "Just help me look, will you? You dragged me down here; the least we can do is destroy that stupid tiara."

Draco kneeled by a cupboard, opened it, and closed it again. "Nice Stunner, by the way."

Asteria's cheeks glowed at the compliment, but the warmth shimmered and faded. "What are we looking for again?"

He hurried to another cupboard, slammed the door closed, and rifled through a drawer. "He kept the most dangerous ingredients around here somewhere….."

"His desk, maybe?"

Draco dashed over. No sooner had he opened a drawer than he jumped back, swearing. Asteria jogged to where he stood. Paper-clip snakes lay coiled at the bottom of the drawer, hissing and striking, but what drew her attention was the tiny asp, body wrapped around the small glass bottle. More bottles lay behind it, glinting in the dim light.

Asteria glanced at Draco. His face had gone white, and his back was pressed against the stone wall. For the second time, she rolled her eyes.

"_Stupefy._"

The Stunner worked more quickly this time: the snake instantly went still. Asteria lifted it with two fingers, grimaced, and tossed it aside. She fell upon the drawer, grabbing all the bottles she could carry and shoving them into her pockets. When she turned, Draco was still staring at the snake, a small crooked line across the floor.

"You have the diadem?"

He started, then pulled it from his robes and handed it to her. "Sorry," he said with an insincere smile. "I wasn't always afraid of snakes."

"What happened?"

"Nagini happened."

"Nagini?"

"The Dark Lord's pet snake." He shuddered, and Asteria felt a stab of pity. She had never met this Nagini, but any pet of You-Know-Who's was bound to be frightening indeed.

"Let's get this over with," she said, setting the diadem on the floor. The icy heartbeat had reached her fingers once again, sending goosebumps all over her body. She kneeled beside it and pulled bottles from her pockets. "I don't even know what most of these are."

"Slughorn wouldn't let you touch them, either?"

"He kept them away from anyone below sixth year." She set the last of the bottles on the floor, glass clicking against the stone. Draco held one up to the light, squinted at its contents, and unscrewed the lid. He splashed a few drops onto the diadem, but he may as well have doused it in water.

They took turns testing different ingredients, with varying degrees of failure. One or two caused the diadem to shudder as if in pain, but most had no effect whatsoever. After the fifth bottle caused no reaction, she sat back in frustration, bracing her arms against the stone.

"It should be a puddle of silver by now! Why aren't any of these working?"

"Horcruxes are rather sturdy things, so I hear." He dumped another bottle onto the diadem, singing the stone beneath it, but the diadem remained intact.

Asteria furrowed her brows. "Horcruxes?"

Draco didn't look at her. "Items where you store a piece of your soul. They're supposed to make you immortal." He swallowed. "Dad barely talked about them. I had to find out what they were on my own…." He trailed off, but she saw him shiver, and she didn't probe further. Any answer she received would hold more information than she wanted.

"Hand me that bottle," she whispered.

* * *

A few minutes later, Asteria's nerves were stretched nearly to breaking. Empty and half-empty bottles lay on the floor, and still the diadem sat unharmed. Was she mistaken, or did it seem smug? Had the metal twisted itself into a ghastly, tarnished smile? Asteria told herself it was just her imagination, but if she or Draco remained still a moment too long, she thought she could hear the echo of a cold, high-pitched laugh.

Finally, Draco lifted the only bottle still filled. The toffee-colored liquid caught the dim light. "Here it is," he said softly. "The last one."

"What's in it?"

He unscrewed the lid. "Basilisk venom, I think." Inhaling, he held it over the diadem, tilted slightly so the liquid barely touched the lip of the bottle. "Say a prayer, will you? If this doesn't work…."

Asteria did, eyes still trained on the bottle.

Slowly, hand shaking, Draco tilted the glass until the liquid spilled out. Asteria watched the venom splash onto the metal.

A hideous scream, high and cold and not quite human, filled the room. Asteria jumped, scrambling back a few paces, and clapped her hands over her ears. The diadem crumpled like a daisy chain in the fire, the scream growing shriller and shriller; finally, when Asteria thought she might go deaf, the scream faded and the diadem broke in four pieces. She stared at it long after the echo had gone, afraid it might start again. But the shards remained still, harmless, as dead as the asp on the floor.

Draco looked at her, panting. "I think it worked."

She nodded, dropping her hands to her lap. "I think so."


	27. Asteria, Part Eighteen

_Thanks to Roosa, JoStone, The Glowing Mischief, Tathiana, L.A.H.H., aleera and Off Dreaming for reviewing! _

* * *

The silence lingered for what seemed like ages. Asteria could still hear the echo of the diadem's cry, mingled with the faraway sounds of the battle—tramping feet, muffled shouts, clanging suits of armor, and the occasional crash as something fell. The thuds made her cringe, picturing another student felled by a single curse, until she remembered Professor Trelawney carting a load of crystal balls to the railing. The next crash still made her cringe, but she smiled too.

"What's so funny?"

Asteria shook her head. "Trelawney. Sounds like those crystal balls are doing their job."

Draco cracked a smile. "That's a first."

"You took her class?"

"No….Dad wouldn't let me. Didn't want to support a charlatan, he said."

"I hear she's hilarious." Asteria shrugged. "In a completely unintentional way."

"I'll bet she is."

Silence descended again. Asteria kept her eyes trained on Draco, avoiding the shattered diadem lying on the singed grey stone, the unconscious Slughorn lying beside his cauldron.

"Shouldn't we be leaving?" Asteria asked.

"I don't want to go out there. Do you?"

"No, not really."

"Well, then."

They listened to the discordant music of the battle raging overhead. Someone made the same sound Christopher had made, and Asteria covered her ears. But no matter how close she pressed her hands, the sound still echoed in her ears, filling her mind with the shriek, the agony and fear on his face, the ugly woman's mouth twisted into a grin as he fell—

She didn't hear Draco approach, or see him sit in front of her. She didn't notice his presence at all until he gently, but firmly, took her wrists and pried her hands free. He held them fast when she tried to clap them over her ears again.

"Teri," he said, but she ignored him, squeezing her eyes shut as a few tears slipped free. "Asteria. Look at me."

Asteria looked at him briefly, then back at her lap.

"Listen. I know what you think that scream meant."

She tried to tug her hands free. "I know what it meant."

"No, you don't. It might have been one of ours. It might have been one of theirs. You can't know for sure."

Asteria swallowed. "Probably one of ours."

Draco inhaled slowly. "You don't know that. Just don't think about it for now."

She shot him a glare. "Oh, just shut it all out, is that it? Just pretend people aren't dying all around us, imagine everything is _peachy _up there?"

He exhaled this time, long and soft. "Then imagine we're winning. Picture those crystal balls falling on heads, or feet, if you'd rather. Picture Yaxley or Rowle or Dolohov hopping around on one foot, dropping their wands and having them snapped in two—"

"By Trelawney." Asteria sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. "Those stupid high heels she always wears. Those wands don't stand a chance."

"Right, right." He chuckled. "And she's walking through the corridors, all mysterious-looking, shawl flapping behind, carrying a load of crystal balls—"

"Which she tosses on the floor, knocking over those Death Eaters like bowling pins." She smiled. "And when they try and get up, she just does it again."

"Only the crystal is bigger this time."

"And heavier."

An especially loud crash of metal echoed through the stone chamber. Asteria glanced at the ceiling, then at Draco, who replaced his lost smile quickly. "I think that was Bellatrix," he said.

"Bellatrix Lestrange?" The name tasted vile.

"She's my aunt. I reckon the suits of armor found her."

The idea of having his aunt killed by walking suits of armor didn't seem to bother him in the slightest; if Asteria wasn't mistaken, Draco's smile had turned wistful. "I didn't know she was your aunt."

"You didn't?" He looked at her sharply. "Most everyone knows."

Asteria had heard the woman's name used in connection with the Malfoy family, but had never pieced the bits of information together. "From what I know of her, it doesn't seem like you're related." His grey eyes flickered, and she elaborated: "You don't act like her nephew."

His cheeks flushed, and he looked away. "Thanks," he whispered. "That…that means a lot."

Asteria searched for something to say, but her words had fled. Gradually, details became clear to her: the warmth of Draco's hands over hers; the feel of them, smooth with small calluses on the palms; how he sat so close their knees touched. For the briefest moment she wanted to pull away, if only to still her beating heart, but it passed as quickly as it came. She sat as still as she could, hoping Draco wouldn't notice what she had and release her hands.

"Do you think there's an afterlife?"

She started at his voice, blinking; then her mind registered the question. "Of course."

"If you don't mind….what do you think it's like?"

Asteria paused, mulling it over. Something told her Draco wouldn't accept the standard playing-harps-on-a-cloud-for-eternity response. She had always thought it lacking, anyway. "I think it'll be nice. Like….like all of the good from this life, without any of the bad. There'll always be something to do, I think; something new to learn."

Draco smiled a bit. "Spoken like a true Ravenclaw."

"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it? You could spend your entire life studying and still not learn everything there is to know about this world. Why should the next be any different?"

"You've given this a good deal of thought, haven't you?"

"Just lately." She looked at her lap. "Really, it started when you suggested the Carrows might have me killed. If they learned the truth, I mean."

"Sorry. I-I didn't mean to frighten you."

Asteria kept her gaze averted. She knew he had, but suspected his intentions were pure. "No, no, it's all right. It got me thinking about all this, didn't it?"

"I'd hardly call thinking about death a beneficial outcome."

She looked up at the same moment he looked away. "But it was. The more I thought about it, the more I realized….I don't really have anything to be afraid of."

He returned her gaze with a frown.

"See," she continued, scooting closer, "if I live, I've made it through. And if I die, I still live. Just not here." Asteria smiled. "Either way, I'm going to be all right."

Draco reached across to brush a strand of hair from her face. "You really believe that?"

"Of course I do. How can I not?"

He tucked the hair behind her ear, but let his hand linger, fingers brushing her temple. His mouth tipped. "You're the oddest witch I've ever met."

She gave a small laugh. "It's a Ravenclaw thing, I suppose."

"No…." His fingertips brushed her temple again, then slowly made their way down her cheek. "No, you're odd, even for a Ravenclaw." He smiled. "I like that."

Warmth flooded her cheeks—whether from his words or his touch, she couldn't be sure. She racked her mind for something to say—some kind words she could give him in return—but found nothing. So she smiled at him instead, hoping he could see all the unspoken things she put into it.

Suddenly, a high, cold voice cut through Asteria's reverie, and she covered her ears again. But that did nothing to shut it out: the voice seemed to come from nowhere but her own mind. "_I hereby order all of my troops to withdraw," _it said. _"Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you…."_

When the voice had gone, Asteria uncovered her ears, the second half of the message already forgotten. The first half still whispered to her: _I order all of my troops to withdraw…._ Draco would go wherever You-Know-Who called him, and she would make her way back to the Great Hall alone. She looked at him with wide eyes.

Draco knelt a foot or so away, cradling his left arm in his right. The message had scared the wind out of him; he sucked in air in deep, even breaths. His jaw was clenched, and when he met her gaze, his pale eyes were alight with a fire she had never seen before.

"I'm not going."


	28. Letter Ten

_A big thanks to Tathiana, solemnly-up-to-no-good, Off Dreaming, yellow 14, The Glowing Mischief, L.A.H.H. and aleera for the reviews! _

* * *

_Asteria wasn't the sole reason I chose to stay in the castle that night. You might say she was more of a catalyst, though I didn't realize her role in my decision until much later. When I decided to stay, only one thing crossed my mind: I was sick of groveling at the Dark Lord's feet. If I returned, I would invariably end up begging for mercy—followed by torture and humiliation, if I was lucky. _

_But if I stayed…._

_I knew it was a small hope. I knew that as things stood, there was little chance that the Order would win that battle. But when your side is losing, every person counts. If I stayed, I might help, in some small way, to turn the tide. I clung to that thought as I sent my Patronus to Aunt Andromeda, begging her to gather reinforcements. Then I stood, took Asteria's hand, and started for the door. _

"_Wait," she said, and scooped what was left of the diadem from the floor. She held the shards out to me, as though offering a gift. _

"_Leave them. They're useless." _

_She took my hand and pressed the blackened metal into my palm. "They're a trophy." A smile curved her lips. "You destroyed one of You-Know-Who's Horcruxes. That's something to be proud of, isn't it?" _

_I had carried that damned thing around for the majority of the battle, and every time it got close to my skin I had felt it, cold and heavy, even through the fabric of my robes. If I didn't pull it away soon, the same anxiety that plagued me whenever the Dark Lord was near would seep through my skin, taking hold of my heart and squeezing like a fist. _

_But when Asteria pressed them into my hand, that fear vanished. There was no icy pulse to be felt, no heartless laugh to be heard. The Dark Lord's soul—the piece he'd placed in the diadem—had been destroyed along with its vessel. I found myself grinning as I shoved the diadem's remains into my pocket. Asteria returned the smile, I took her hand again, and we started for the door again. She paused there long enough to revive Slughorn, and we hurried out before he spotted us. We owed him an explanation, to be sure, but not then. It could wait._

_An eerie silence had fallen over the castle. In all my time at Hogwarts, I had never heard anything like it. There was the stillness you hear when you're out after curfew, but even that didn't compare: When the rest of the castle is asleep, you tiptoe everywhere, and you breathe as shallowly as you can, afraid a ghost or Mrs. Norris or a teacher might hear you. But in that silence, there was no need to move softly, because there was no one who might hear. It was an empty, dead sort of silence, and I feared it more than I feared being caught by an angry Slughorn. _

_The dungeon was nearly untouched; as far as I could tell, the battle hadn't spread that far. But once Asteria and I reached the entrance hall, the signs of a battle became evident: scorched walls, fresh bloodstains, small craters where Trelawney's crystal balls had missed their targets. But it was the bodies strewn across the floor that stopped me in my tracks. _

_The battle had raged strongest in the entrance hall, which accounted for the dozen or so corpses lying on the stone, here and there, some bloodied and others not, untouched where they fell. Some were on their backs, others crumpled on their sides, and a few lay on their faces. Of the faces I could see, most belonged to our allies. _

_It couldn't have been more than a moment before the shock wore off; I honestly don't know how long I stood there, openmouthed, staring at the carnage. Asteria buried her face in my shoulder, but I couldn't look away. I absently put an arm around her, wanting to say something to comfort her; but when you're looking at the shells of people you knew, there's nothing you can say._

"_Draco? What are you doing here?" _

_McGonagall's voice broke the spell. I shook my head and saw her striding towards me, concern etching her features. "I…I decided not to go," I said. _

_She gave me a long look, as if trying to discern my motives; then sighed. "I suppose we need you now more than ever. Follow me." _

_I tugged Asteria along after me into the Great Hall, turning once to whisper in her ear. "Don't look." _

"_I'm not," she sniffed. She pulled away slightly, and I felt the warmth where her tears soaked my sleeve. I pulled her closer, keeping my gaze focused straight ahead. One glance at the entrance hall was one glance too many. _

_The Great Hall had become a center of activity, with students and teachers slowly filtering in, sitting down heavily on stone benches or on the floor. Madame Pomfrey had set up at one table, bottles and bandages and blankets all in tidy piles. Two students entered from the other end of the Hall, carrying a body between them. I swallowed hard and looked away. _

_Asteria let out a cry and pulled away; she had spotted her sister. I watched as Daphne caught her up in her arms and held her close. Briefly I wished for Mum; then I felt a pang of guilt for wishing her there amid all the sorrow and loss, where she could have easily been numbered among the dead. She was with the Dark Lord, that much I knew, and I felt a sudden surge of panic, wondering if he'd killed her when I didn't show. I told myself that wouldn't happen; that he wouldn't kill you or Mum as long as he didn't know whether or not I was still alive, but that was a small comfort. _

_McGonagall led me to Madame Pomfrey's table; there she turned and faced me. "My sources inform me you have been studying the art of healing." _

"_A little." _

"_Enough?" _

_I shrugged. "Enough to keep detention victims alive."_

_She nodded and faced Madame Pomfrey again. "Poppy? Draco has decided to stay. Since he has a bit of healing ability, I thought he might be of use to you." _

_Pomfrey rose and met us, and let out a sigh of relief. I couldn't imagine why she'd be relieved I was staying, but I supposed she used the same logic I did—every person counts. "Any help will be appreciated. Especially from one with a bit of training." She beckoned for me to follow, but I didn't move. _

"_I-I don't know anything about this kind of healing—all I did was make a few potions—" _

_Pomfrey folded her arms and lifted her chin. "You got yourself injured to watch me work, didn't you?" _

_I put a hand to my head. No use in denying it now. "Yes." _

_She smiled ever so slightly. "Well. Did you learn anything?"_

_I nodded. _

"_That's what I thought. You'll assist me, then." She turned and strode back toward her table, and followed. It seems ridiculous now, but as I prepared for the stream of casualties we'd soon face, I felt the way I did when the Dark Lord told me to kill Dumbledore: I knew I couldn't, but I also knew I had no choice. Until that point, my healing skills had been limited to lurking about the dungeons at all hours and administering a few simple cures when the Carrows weren't watching. I couldn't possibly handle all of the hideous, painful injuries that were sure to come my way. _

_Of course, Madame Pomfrey was nothing like the Dark Lord. She was a good deal kinder, and wouldn't let me drown. She would handle the more serious injuries, leaving the lighter ones to me. I reassured myself with those facts as she explained the proper procedures for healing different curses. _

"_Now, for Sectumflagrante—" _

"_It's a rather simple potion. If you'll let me fetch it from my trunk—" _

_Pomfrey just looked at me. "You have a cure?" _

"_Yes. I've been making it for a few weeks now. Or if you have a cauldron and the necessary ingredients…." I trailed off when she started to smile. _

"_I was just about to say you can only cool the burns as nature takes its course!" She patted my hand. "You'll do fine." _

_I hoped she was right. _


	29. Asteria, Part Nineteen

_Thank you to the following reviewers: Tathiana, Off Dreaming, mEEEm, ka72ty, The Glowing Mischief, yellow 14, L.A.H.H., aleera, Rachel, Marti. S.A. and Roosa! _

* * *

There were too many of them. Bodies strewn across the floor, carried in by their friends, crumpled in heaps where they fell—Asteria had known students and teachers would die this night, had braced herself for the battle's aftermath the moment You-Know-Who had ordered a cease-fire, but the sight of so much death had shaken her to the core. The thin walls she had raised around her mind crumbled. She clung to Draco as he led her through the entrance hall, drawing comfort from his slow, steady walk, his arm around her shoulders.

When they passed through the door to the Great Hall, Asteria dared a quick look. There were fewer bodies here, but she saw two boys carrying a still form through another entrance. She swallowed and licked her lips, tasting salt, and sniffled. Was that a boy, or a girl being carried inside? It had to be a boy; the hair was cut short. But any of the other corpses brought into the Hall could be her sister….

A sudden movement caught Asteria's eye. She turned, and there was Daphne, raising her hand in a wave. Asteria cried out, pulling free from Draco, and ran to her sister. With a soft cry, Daphne caught her up in her arms, swaying a little, and held her tightly.

"You're okay," Asteria sobbed into her shoulder.

"I'm okay," Daphne whispered. "You're all right?"

Asteria nodded, unable to speak. For a long moment they simply held each other. Soon, Asteria felt warmth oozing onto her fingertips, soaking her palms. She pulled her hands away and stared at the blood in alarm.

"You're hurt."

Daphne backed a step. "Not badly."

"Let me see." Asteria tried to get a look at her sister's back, but she turned, dodging her glance.

"It's just a few scratches, Ter. I'm fine."

"Scratches? From where? Who scratched you?" Her eyes widened. "Greyback? Is that who scratched you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ter, it's just a scratch. Nothing like what Lavender got. And it's been bandaged, and—"

Asteria reeled back, fighting panic, then took her sister's wrist. "Come on. We've got to get to you Madame Pomfrey."

Daphne sighed, but let Asteria drag her to the table where Pomfrey had set up an array of healing supplies: ointments and salves, bandages and blankets, chocolate bars and hot cocoa. "Sit down," Asteria told her sister, then turned. "Madame Pomfrey?"

The nurse knelt at the other end of the table, waving her wand over a boy's wounded arm. She raised her head just enough to squint at the interruption, then returned to her work. "Draco, you'll take this one."

Asteria could only blink as Draco stood and made his way to their end of the table, clutching his wand. She sat down beside Daphne and watched him crouch down before them, twitching his wand nervously.

"So…you're injured?"

Daphne smiled slightly. "Pomfrey roped you into healing, did she?"

"Yeah. You'll be my first patient."

Madame Pomfrey spoke without looking up from her work. "She doesn't need to know that, Draco."

"Well, it's _true_!"

"She still doesn't need to know it. Remember what I said about putting patients at ease?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Show me where you're injured, Daphne."

Daphne turned in her seat, indicating several long tears on the back of her robes. Dried blood had stiffened the cloth, and crimson soaked through the strips that had been hastily applied to the wounds. Draco peeled the cloth away, and Daphne stiffened, sucking in a breath.

"Where'd you get these scratches?"

Daphne shrugged. "Can't remember."

"She remembers, Draco. It was Greyback."

Draco swore. Madame Pomfrey slapped her palm against the bench.

"Draco Malfoy, we do not swear at our patients!"

"I wasn't swearing at _her_, I was swearing at the injury!"

"That's no excuse!" She sighed and took a small brown bottle from the table, meeting him halfway down. "Use _Episkey_, then this."

Draco thanked her and returned to the two sisters. Asteria glanced at Daphne, who had begun to smile; then at Draco, who silently took a seat on the bench.

"I'll have to cut your robes to get at the wounds," he said. "Sorry, but that's the only way."

"Are you going to swear at my robes, too?"

Draco drew back, blinking, until Daphne turned and gave him a smile.

"That was a joke, Draco."

"Oh. Of—of course." He cleared his throat, then withdrew a dagger and cut through Daphne's robes. Asteria winced at the angry red gashes across her sister's back, and held her breath as Draco waved his wand over the wounds. They drew together, but didn't close completely, and he poured a bit of the green ointment onto his palm. Asteria wrinkled her nose as the harsh, pungent odor threatened to make her sneeze.

"So how'd it happen?" Draco asked as he rubbed the ointment onto the wounds. Daphne inhaled sharply.

"We were in—the corridor—a couple of us. Seamus, Lavender, Hannah and I."

"Sounds like more than a couple."

"Safety in numbers, right?" She stiffened again. "Well, we'd just met up and were trying to figure out which way to go when he ambushed us."

"Greyback."

"Yes." Daphne shook her head. "I thought four of us could take him down, but…."

"He's a mean one. Scares the hell out of me." He wiped his hands on his robes. "There. Try not to do anything too strenuous for a while."

"We've only got an hour."

"Well, spend it resting, all right?" He began to stopper the bottle, then paused. "Where's Lavender?"

Daphne shook her head. "I don't know. We got separated."

Nodding, Draco stoppered the bottle and set it aside, within reach. "She should be down before too long, then."

Asteria prayed he was right.

* * *

When Daphne's wounds had been treated and bandaged, she stayed on the bench until more casualties streamed through the doors. She stood, announcing she would find a place to rest elsewhere, and made her way to another table, joining Millicent and Theodore. Asteria started to follow her, but the moment she stood, Dennis Creevey stumbled over and sat down heavily. Draco lifted the boy's arm, swore softly, and held a wad of gauze to the wound on his side. "Teri, bring me the dittany, will you?"

A quick Summoning Charm brought the potion to her hand. She relayed it to Draco, who poured a few drops onto the wound. Dennis sighed in relief.

"Get me the Blood-Replenishing Potion, please. It's still in the cauldron….you'll have to put it in a glass…."

She took a cup from the pile of supplies, found the cauldron, and returned with a small amount of the potion, which she gave to Dennis. He took a sip and set it on the table. Draco lifted the cup, frowned, and passed it back. "Finish it. All of it."

"I don't need that much—"

"Yes, you do. Now finish it."

Dennis obeyed, then stared at them with wide brown eyes. "Have either of you seen my brother? Colin?"

Asteria shook her head. "I'm sorry," Draco said. "We haven't been near him."

The Gryffindor looked into his empty cup; Asteria got the feeling he was fighting tears. She put a hand on his shoulder and then drew him into a one-armed hug. "It's all right," she whispered, the lie resting awkwardly on her tongue. "He'll turn up."

* * *

Neville Longbottom announced his presence the moment he entered the Hall, shouting at the top of his voice. "Where are you, Malfoy?"

Draco rolled his eyes without looking up. "I'm over here, Longbottom."

Neville stormed over—quite a feat, considering his injured leg, but the limp was less imposing than he had probably intended. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

Draco whispered a spell, waving his wand over Padma Patil's cheek. "I was _thinking_ I'd save your life."

"You Imperiused me!"

"Yes, to save your life."

Neville folded his arms, steadying himself as best he could on his one good leg. "My life didn't need saving."

"That's not how it looked on my end." He traced Padma's new scar with his finger, then drew back and appraised Neville. "Sit down. You're injured."

"I'm fine."

"You're limping. That's not what I call 'fine.'" He stood, nodding at the bench. "Sit down and let me have a look."

"I told you, I'm fine."

Draco sighed, bowing his head; then he shot Neville a look halfway between a glare and an eye-roll. "Neville, do you _want _me to Imperius you again?"

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I wouldn't?" Draco lifted his wand, and Neville sank onto the bench, glaring. He tugged his robes up to his knee, exposing the wound on his leg.

"Draco dear, most Healers don't threaten to Imperius their patients."

Asteria glanced at the nurse, who was smiling slightly. Draco must have seen it too, because he smiled as well.

"Most Healers don't have _him_ to deal with." He tilted his head at Neville.

"And most patients don't have a Healer who threatens Unforgiveables," Padma said.

"Well, when your patient's as stubborn as he is…."

Neville rolled his eyes. "Just heal it, will you? I'd rather not be Imperiused again."

No one laughed, but more than a few smiles were shared. Asteria watched them, grinning, and wondered if they might win this battle after all.


	30. Asteria, Part Twenty

_Thank you to Tathiana, Off Dreaming, ka72ty, The Glowing Mischief, yellow 14, L.A.H.H., Fairne, aleera, Kalli98, solemnly-up-to-no-good and Marti. S.A for the reviews!_

* * *

Asteria remained with Draco and Madame Pomfrey as the casualties continued to pour in. She dashed back and forth between the two, fetching dittany, pouring hot cocoa, bringing a salve to Draco only to have Madame Pomfrey ask for it seconds later. As the hour wore on, she tried to establish a rhythm—as Pomfrey continually told Draco to do—but the stream of victims seemed infinite, their needs endless. Twenty-five minutes into the cease-fire, a brief lull in casualties finally allowed her a chance to rest.

"Is it over?" she asked Draco, sinking onto the bench beside him.

"Is what over?"

"This." She waved her hand over the table, the healing supplies, the few students who remained nearby after their wounds had been treated.

He sighed, leaning back against the table. Hardly a comfortable position, but at least he had the chance to rest his head and close his eyes. "I don't think so. I hope not, anyway."

Asteria just stared at him for a moment; then, realizing he was waiting for her, spoke her thoughts aloud. "You _want_ more injuries?"

Draco opened one eye. "If it means they're alive, yes. Better a casualty than a corpse."

She nodded and looked away, her gaze finally resting on Lavender Brown. A blanket had been laid out on the floor, and another draped over her, but from the way she trembled, both were little comfort. Her wounds no longer bled—Asteria had stroked her hair as both Draco and Madame Pomfrey mended them, then murmured to her as they poured as much Blood-Replenishing Potion as they could down her throat—but there were worse things than blood loss. She tried not to think about the moon, round and silver, glowering down upon them from the enchanted ceiling. At this time tomorrow, the moon would be truly full.

A sudden movement at the corner of her vision drew her attention from Lavender. Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley stumbled through the doorway, a teenage boy between them, his arms draped over their shoulders. She nudged Draco, who sighed, sat up, and took his wand from the table. He took one long look at the boy and grabbed a flask of cocoa before meeting them halfway.

"Looks like you got your wish," Asteria muttered, rising as Madame Pomfrey beckoned her.

* * *

The hour wore on, reaching its forty-minute mark. Draco looked at his pocketwatch. "Ten minutes since the last victim."

Asteria nodded, her eyes straying to the door as Oliver Wood entered with Neville, carrying a body between them. Someone cried out, but she looked away before the student's face came into focus. Daphne sat at the next table, across from Millicent and Theodore. One of the younger Slytherin girls sat beside her sister, head resting on her folded arms as Daphne rubbed her back and looked around at nothing at all.

She was about to ask if Draco had seen it too, but when she turned back to him, he was already staring at the little group. Asteria stood and approached Madame Pomfrey.

"I don't see any more victims," the nurse said when Asteria asked permission to join her sister. "None in need of treatment, that is."

Thanking her, Asteria went to the other end of the table, tapped Draco's shoulder, and gave a nod. He stood and, without a word, followed her to where Daphne and the other Slytherins sat. Millicent and Theodore watched them approach. A moment of silence passed before Millicent spoke.

"Evander," she whispered, and Asteria recognized the name of a Slytherin in her year. "It was Evander."

Draco buried his head in his hands.

* * *

Asteria didn't know how long they sat in silence before Daphne stood, crossed to the nearest wall, and began flicking and twirling her wand, murmuring charms. A few students watched her, but it was Millicent who asked the question.

"Damn it, Daph, what're you doing now?"

"That spell I told you about. I can't quite get it right, though, so I'm doing it the old-fashioned way."

As she spoke, beams of light shot from her wand and slowly took shape, forming rigid blue lines across the stone. Asteria blinked, wondering; then she smiled as the lines arranged themselves into a familiar and friendly shape. Theodore chuckled.

"The Star of David. I should've known."

Daphne stepped back to admire her handiwork. "I'd wanted to use a spell I've been working on. Sort of like the one that sets off the Mark, only it sets off the Star of David. But like I said, it never came out right."

"It looks nice," Asteria said, wishing for better words. "But what's it for?"

Her sister shrugged, resuming her seat. "God's brought us this far. I figured why not put up a reminder?"

Asteria nodded her agreement, Draco and Theodore gave weary smiles, and Millicent rolled her eyes. "God didn't bring us here. We fought like hell to get this far."

"I like to think he helped us, though," Asteria said. "It's nice, thinking he's up in Heaven, making sure we're all right."

Millicent sniffed. "Hardly realistic."

"Oh, come off it, will you?" Daphne's palm slapped the table. "I put up one bloody star and you go off on a rant."

"It wasn't a rant; I was just pointing out the flaws in your logic!"

Asteria lost interest in the argument as Draco got to his feet and approached the Star. He lifted his wand and followed the lines, carving deep gashes into the stone. McGonagall turned from the group of students she was speaking to.

"Draco? What are you doing?"

Theodore rolled his eyes. "He's defacing school property. What does it_ look_ like he's doing?"

"I'm aware of that," she said tersely, closing the gap between them. "Would you mind telling me why?"

Draco's eyes never left his work. "Have you ever noticed how it's the ugly symbols that get all the attention? Shot up into the sky….burned into your skin….but the beautiful ones? Nobody sees those. They're hidden….locked away….forced underground." Lowering his wand, he stepped forward and traced the Star of David with his finger, smiling faintly. "I used a Permanent Sticking Charm. Hope you don't mind."

"I suppose I haven't much of a choice," McGonagall said, surveying Draco's work with her hands on her hips.

"I wanted him to see it." No one had to ask who Draco referred to. "If he…." He sighed, bowing his head, fingertips still touching the Star.

McGonagall put a hand on Draco's shoulder. He looked up, and she smiled into his eyes.

"If the worst happens, he won't be getting rid of _that_ anytime soon."

Draco relaxed somewhat, and nodded. For a long moment they stayed where they were, admiring the Star. Asteria felt more than saw other students drawing near, craning their necks to get a better look. Her pride swelled. Here, for everyone to see, was the symbol of her faith and the underground resistance, carved deep within the stone. It wouldn't fade, nor would the Dark Lord erase it. The Permanent Sticking Charm had made sure of that. To Asteria, the Star had never looked lovelier.

"Does anyone have a watch?" Millicent asked at last.

Draco's was the first open. He studied the numbers, pausing before delivering the news. "It's up. Potter's hour, I mean."

Silence settled over the Great Hall. Asteria listened for the sounds of the Dark Lord's approach, hardly daring to breathe, but heard nothing except the steady pulse of her heart, hammering in her ears.

"That's good, isn't it?"

A few heads swiveled to see the owner of the voice. Dennis Creevey wiped his eyes and met the gazes of his fellow students. "If You-Know-Who hasn't come in here yet….that's a good thing. Right?"

Draco shook his head, still staring at his watch. "No. No….it's not good at all."

Another moment passed. When Draco didn't elaborate, McGonagall clapped her hands.

"It gives us a little more time. Move the severely injured out of the way—one of the corridors will do. All those strong enough to fight will remain in the Hall. Get the healing supplies to a safer place."

Asteria got to her feet when Daphne nudged her, but it was Draco who held her attention. He stared at his watch, face pale. A few steps brought her to his side.

"Come on," she said, touching his arm. "You heard McGonagall."

He didn't move. Asteria tugged at his sleeve.

"Come on, Draco. You-Know-Who'll be here for Potter any minute."

Draco shook his head. "No…."

"What do you mean, no? You said it yourself. Potter's had his hour, and—"

Her thought died as the voice she'd come to fear entered the Hall. Students yelped and clutched each other; a few drew their wands. Asteria's blood went cold as the Dark Lord shouted the words:

"Harry Potter is dead."

There was more, but she heard little of it. The words blended together, a cruel shriek of joy that drove the wind from her lungs. She sank to the floor, shoving a fist against her mouth, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. When the voice had gone, leaving them with a command to come and see, she heard the delicate click of metal on metal as Draco closed his watch.


	31. Letter Eleven

_Thank you to Tathiana, Off Dreaming, Marti. S.A, yellow 14, where's alice, The Glowing Mischief and L.A.H.H. for reviewing! _

* * *

_It was over. _

_Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew that wasn't completely true. Despite twenty-some years of fighting a losing battle, the Order still hadn't taken the hint. I knew this time would be no different: even with a ragged army of students and teachers, half of whom had been killed or injured, they would continue to throw themselves at the Dark Lord's forces until the last man was slain. But for me, there was no further point in fighting. _

_Silence hung in the air for a long minute after the Dark Lord's voice exited the Hall. Students turned fear-filled glances on each other; some, like Asteria, cried quietly; a few shouted in rage. Neville was one of these. _

"_It's a lie!" His voice was answered by murmurs and yells of agreement. "He's bluffing, you'll see!" _

_I shook my head, shoving my watch back into my pocket. "No...he isn't. He wouldn't lie about this." _

_I hated the silence that followed, the sickening tension that answered my words. Neville's jaw slowly unclenched, and he lowered his fist. He breathed slow and deep, like a dragon preparing a flame, and turned, addressing each group gathered in the Hall. _

"_We'll keep fighting, then. You hear me? All of us. We're not giving in. You-Know-Who wants us to go out there and kneel….well, I'm telling you that's the last thing we'll do! We'll bow down when we're dead, and not a minute before!" _

_There was a smattering of applause—nothing like the cheers he'd hoped for, I'm sure, or the deafening roar his speech deserved. Its effect was slower, like the anxious calm that comes when dementors leave the room. Weasley and Granger were two of the first to stand; Weasley came forward and clapped Neville on the shoulder._

"_I'm with you, mate." _

_Granger swallowed, nodding. Ginny stood and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Others followed, some steadily, some shaking a bit, many wiping tears. Asteria got to her feet and pulled me into the fray. When the entire Hall had clustered around him, Neville smiled slightly. _

"_All right, then. We'll go out there, hear what this bastard has to say, then give him hell for it!" _

_Once again, there were no cheers; just emphatic nods and a few shouts of agreement. I watched, wanting to give the Dark Lord hell with them; wanting to disappear and remain in safety. Neville raised his wand, face bright with rage. I'd never seen him so angry, so fierce and determined, leading a charge I was certain would cost him his life. One thought crossed my mind: Glad to have known you, mate. _

_Asteria took three steps before McGonagall blocked her path. "You're staying." _

"_But You-Know-Who said—" _

"_I know what he said. And as you are one of two whose loyalty remains secret…." She looked at me—pride and sorrow and determination all in a single glance—and I looked away. "Stay here. Get the wounded to one of the classrooms. If the fight returns to this Hall, you may join then." _

_Asteria stood back, turning sullen eyes on her teacher. "My sister's going." _

"_Your sister has made it public which side she is on." McGonagall's eyes softened somewhat. "I'll not have you take a needless risk. Either of you. If two students make it through this battle…." She trailed off, watching the others head for the door. "Get the wounded to safety. I'll see you again." _

_Reassuring words, but knowing what was coming made them sound like an empty promise. Asteria stared after her, one hand clutching her wand, the other dangling limply at her side. Daphne turned her head when she reached the door, gave her sister a long look, then vanished into the night. When Daphne was gone, Asteria marched over to the corridor where we'd hidden the wounded, seized two corners of the blanket where Lavender lay, and began dragging her into the nearest classroom. _

"_Give me a hand?" _

_I took the other end of the blanket and helped Asteria lift Lavender; then we carried her into the classroom. She'd stopped shivering by then, but her face was too pale, and beads of sweat dotted her skin. We laid her gently on the floor, and I brushed a few strands of hair from her face. They had already turned damp from her sweat, and a few pieces were stiff with dried blood. _

_There were only a handful of students left in the castle, including us, so our work was short. Many of those seriously injured enough to require more than the most basic medical attention died before they could get it—a fact that haunted me as we moved the others out of the way. In a strange way, I was grateful for the task: It kept my mind from straying too far toward the Dark Lord's voice, kept me from listening too hard. I could hear the cries of grief floating through the open door. _

_When all the victims were safe within the classroom, Asteria and I returned to the Hall. Cries of rage, jeers, and insults kept that awful silence from intruding. I paused, listening. The Dark Lord had said everything I'd expected him to say—Potter died while trying to escape; he was nothing but a selfish brat; you were beyond foolish to put your faith in him—except for one thing. For the briefest second, I dared to hope he had forgotten; to hope Potter's death was enough of a distraction….._

"_I wonder, Lucius, why your son is not celebrating this victory with us?" _

_It was as though every dementor guarding the school that year had converged on me at once. My blood ran cold. My heart skipped a beat or two. My legs nearly gave out, and I sank to the floor, never mind there was a bench right behind me. I wasn't aware of Asteria's presence until she touched my shoulder. _

"_He knows," was all I could say. "Oh God, he knows." I was breathing quite fast, as though I'd just run a great distance, and I couldn't look at her. I didn't want to explain what all this meant, but somehow, she understood all the same. _

"_It—it's all right," she said, but I heard the tremor in her voice. "We can find a way out of this—there's always a way out—" _

"_No! There's no way out!" I scrambled to my feet and paced, tearing at my hair. "This is it! He's….he's going to…." _

_She stood. "But the reinforcements! We can stay until they come! You called your aunt, Daphne called our parents, McGonagall had to have called someone—" _

_I turned, gripped her shoulders and shook her. "They're not coming! Get it through your head!" She just stared at me with more than a bit of fright, and I loosened my grip. "And even if they are," I continued, more quietly this time, "I'll be dead before they get here." _

"_Then we'll wait here for them." _

_I shook my head. "No….he'll just send someone in here. Drag me outside, and you with me. If I go now…." _

_Asteria's blue eyes softened, and for a moment I thought she might weep. Instead, she gently pried my hands from her shoulders and held them. "Draco," she whispered, "why are you so eager to give up?" _

_I couldn't answer. Not because I didn't know, but because I didn't want to frighten her or cause her any more sorrow. For the past two years—the last year, especially—I had wondered if my ordeal with the Dark Lord was punishment for something. I considered it in the typical childish fashion at first—oh God, why me, what am I being punished for, what did I do to deserve this—but the more I screamed those questions at the sky, the more I pondered them. Slowly, one layer at a time, the answer came to me, a series of images that brought nothing but shame. Wanting Hermione Granger dead during second year. Sending Macnair after an innocent hippogriff because of my own stupidity. Taunting Neville for his poor grades—and worse, his parents. Putting Katie Bell in St. Mungo's while trying to kill Dumbledore. The more I thought, the more I wanted to forget, but the less I could erase. _

_All this and more came crashing down on me now. _

_I don't know what brought it on. Panic, perhaps. What I do know is that when those memories came back to me, one thought tied them all together: I deserve to die. _

_The Dark Lord's voice only intensified that idea. "Draco!" he called, and I started. "Come out, Draco, and witness Potter's death for yourself!" I heard the false cheer in his tone, and it made me shiver. _

_I looked at the door for a minute, breathing hard. "I….I have to go." _

_Asteria's hand on my cheek broke the spell; I saw tears in her eyes. Why she would be crying for me was beyond my understanding. "Distract him." _

"_From…." I shook my head. "That won't work. He's….he's wanted to do this for...for a while now." _

_She closed her eyes for a moment. "Use the diadem," she whispered at last. "Just until reinforcements arrive." _

_The anger wasn't as strong this time, but I felt it all the same. How could she have such confidence? How could she cling to such a slender thread of hope—when it was clear all hope was gone? "They're not coming." _

"_Try to think they are. Just for a minute?" _

_Sighing, I nodded. I felt suddenly tired and lightheaded, and this argument was sapping what little energy I had. Asteria smiled; then, without warning, she stood on tiptoe and kissed me._

_I've tried to describe that kiss since then, but I find that putting it into words is like explaining beauty itself. Trying only kills the magic. I can tell you this: When she pulled away and I could see the tears glistening on her eyelashes and the soft flush of her skin, when she placed a hand on my cheek and I felt the coolness of it, I could breathe normally. My heart still hammered, but not as much, and I could remember where I'd placed the diadem. _

_Asteria smiled slightly. "Just in case." _

_I dug the shards out of my pocket and clutched them. "Shall I give him hell, then?" _

"_Let's give him hell," she whispered, and slipped her hand into mine as the Dark Lord called my name again. I tried to let go, but she grasped it again. I looked down at her, and her eyes flickered. _

_"You're not going out there alone." _

_That changed the game entirely. _

_The moment she took my hand, I felt a stab of fear. When she made it clear she wasn't leaving, I panicked a bit. I'd have to distract him now. My life might be worthless, but Asteria's was worth fighting for. _

_We made our way to the door—both too great and too small a distance. The space I had to cross wasn't large, but I still had time to wonder how he'd kill me. No Killing Curse would do; he'd use something slower, more painful and humiliating. Maybe he'd torture me until I could no longer breathe, or cut my veins and let me bleed. Perhaps he'd pin me to the ground and let Greyback claim another victim. I was almost grateful when I passed through the entryway and into the crowd gathered there; it meant the time of wondering was at an end. _

_As was my life. _

_The crowd parted as I approached them from behind—no doubt the Dark Lord's doing. Though I looked neither right nor left, I could still feel their eyes on me, their stares burning my cheeks. No one reached for me. No one spoke, save for a few strangled whimpers. In a way, I preferred this. Better to pass through quietly, without fanfare, than to have friends reach for me and suffer the Dark Lord's wrath. _

_When I reached the front of the crowd, I walked a few more paces, then stopped. There I stood in No Man's Land, that vast space between allies and enemies, with no one but the charred diadem and Asteria for company. I shouldn't have sent a glance down the line, but I did. _

_To my left and to my right, as far as I could see, were the forces the Dark Lord had gathered for the battle, men and a few women I didn't recognize, all watching me with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. A few even looked fearful—those who, like me, weren't completely certain they'd made the right decision. I would be an example to them. _

_Closer to the center were the other Death Eaters. Some watched me solemnly, eyes glinting; a few, like Rowle, were almost smiling. Bellatrix looked ready to dance. But it was you and Mum I least wanted to see. _

_Mum was crying. Even from where I stood, I saw tears streaming down her cheeks, glistening in the faint light. She even shook her head a little, as if telling me I shouldn't have come; that I should turn back and hide in the castle somewhere. You just stared at me. I've never seen your eyes so wide. You just looked at me, blinking, your face a mask of utter panic. It was plain you had no idea what to do, who to side with in this instance—yet you knew the Dark Lord would force you to do exactly that. _

_In the center stood the Dark Lord, Potter lying at his feet. He held his wand between two white fingers, Nagini draped around his neck, but it was his smile that made me want to turn and run. There was genuine pleasure there, gleeful anticipation before a kill, and I knew I had been right. He had wanted to kill me for some time, and I had given him the perfect excuse, a chance to put on a show. _

_Just as I considered dropping the diadem and running for the castle, damn the consequences, Asteria squeezed my hand. It was a gentle squeeze, just enough to remind me of her presence, but it was enough. I felt a bit—a tiny bit—of the warmth I'd felt when she kissed me pulse through my veins. I can do this, I thought. Maybe I couldn't fight for myself, but I could fight for her. _

"_Draco Malfoy," he said. For once, he savored the name. "I have been looking for you." _

_I dropped Asteria's hand, took a step forward, and tossed the shards of the diadem at his feet. "I suppose you were looking for this, too." All the pent-up anger and frustration from the past two years boiled to the surface, and I lifted an eyebrow. "My lord." _


	32. Asteria, Part Twenty One

_Thank you to the following reviewers: mem277, Aisling's Corner, aleera, The Glowing Mischief, yellow 14, mEEEm, Off Dreaming, solemnly-up-to-no-good, Ilovepi and L.A.H.H.! _

* * *

The moment the Dark Lord came into view, Asteria felt a surge of panic.

It wasn't his appearance that frightened her—though it was nothing if not frightening. Shroud-white skin was stretched over a tall, thin frame. Pale, bony fingers curled around a dark wand, and the long neck seemed too fragile to support the giant snake—Nagini, she surmised—draped around it. If she ever saw a demon, she imagined it would look something like this. But that was not what made her halt for a fraction of a second, continuing only when she remembered Draco still grasped her hand.

It was his smile.

There was something burning behind those crimson eyes that kept the thin lips smiling as he spoke Draco's name, drawing it out. Asteria hadn't yet considered the possibility that reinforcements might not come. They had been called; they would come. But if they never came, or if they arrived a moment too late…. Asteria didn't finish the thought, but terrible pictures of _what might happen, _of Draco lying dead on the grass as she waited helplessly for the curse that would end her life, pushed their way into her mind.

As they drew closer, she spotted a man and a woman, both rather tall with blond hair, standing close together some distance from the Dark Lord. The woman had tears streaming down her cheeks, and the man was wide-eyed, barely blinking. From the way Draco looked at them, they could only be his parents. Another wave of fear washed over her: If her plan failed, Draco's parents would watch him die.

She closed her eyes for a long second, squeezing Draco's hand. There was no backing out now. No plan but this.

_Please, God, let him fight. Help him fight. He doesn't deserve to die. _

"I have been looking for you."

Draco dropped her hand and stepped forward, tossing the shards at the Dark Lord's feet. "I suppose you've been looking for this, too. My lord."

The Dark Lord glanced at the shards as if examining something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "What is it?"

Draco returned the look with a cool stare. "Question is, what _was_ it? It's not much of anything now."

"I asked you a question, Draco."

"So did I."

There were no wands, no curses or hexes, but this was a duel in its own right. Draco dodged and parried, attacked and defended, holding his own. Asteria waited for her chance to join the battle.

"Do you know what it is or don't you?"

"I know Potter was looking for it."

Was it her imagination, or did she see the bony shoulders tense at Potter's name? Had he drawn back almost imperceptibly, recovered just as quickly?

"And _where_ was Potter looking for it, Draco?"

"Does it matter? I mean, if the diadem wasn't important to you in the first place—"

The Dark Lord stiffened, but quickly resumed an air of disinterest. Asteria felt a small thrill. Draco had struck his first blow.

"Which diadem? Be specific, now."

She almost smiled. How many diadems were hidden in Hogwarts, anyway?

"The one Potter was looking for. The one I destroyed."

Sensing the fight was turning in their favor, Asteria stepped forward and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. She smiled. "The one _we _destroyed. He had an accomplice."

"You little whore." She turned her head at a half-familiar voice and identified its owner as Yaxley. He had come to her family's home on more than one occasion, greeting her with the same smile he might give a remarkably intelligent child. Now, he was scowling. "We thought you were with us."

Drawing a breath, she spoke with a calmness that surprised her. "I may or may not be a whore, Mr. Yaxley, but I frankly don't see what promiscuity has to do with any of this."

Draco's hand found hers, clasped it briefly, and fell away. She hoped he meant _Good job. _

"Ah, yes." The high, cold voice drew her attention back to the center of the line. "Asteria Greengrass. I have heard rumors."

Her stomach made a sickening turn. This monster knew her name?

"The fact that you are a Ravenclaw has been lamented," he continued. "Had you been a Slytherin, you might have been saved—"

Fear tightened its grip. He was going to kill her, kill her right now, in front of everyone, Draco following close behind.

"—although, given the company you keep, that is doubtful." He lifted his wand, and she caught a glimpse of his smile before she closed her eyes. "_Crucio._"

The pain caught her by surprise—not because the word hadn't warned her, but because there was so much of it. Every muscle in her body had cramped; every bone broken; her skin was on fire. She was dimly aware of her legs buckling, of her body crashing to the grass; the scream she heard was barely recognized as her own.

When the pain receded, she trembled. Tears clustered at the corners of her eyes, and she felt her fingers loosen on the handfuls of grass she had clutched at while under the curse. The warm night was suddenly cold, and her entire body ached. Draco wasn't kneeling beside her, nor had he cried out. Asteria lifted her head as much as she could, her neck aching in protest, and turned it so she faced him. He stood rigidly at attention, unmoving. A long look upward completed the picture: He had been frozen in place, his arms pinned to his sides, facing straight ahead.

"Your hero is dead," the Dark Lord said, pacing. "He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds, killed while trying to save himself—"

Asteria heard a cry that might have been "No!" but it was obscured by the ensuing scuffle. She heard a bang and saw a light flash; then a grunt of pain and a muffled thud.

"And who is this?" The Dark Lord's voice scraped Asteria's nerves. "Who volunteers to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

A gleeful laugh answered his question. "It is Neville Longbottom, my lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

Neville!

"Ah, yes, I remember." Once again, the Dark Lord spoke slowly, as though relishing the memory of Neville's parents. "But you're a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

Asteria heard Neville grunt as he got to his feet. "So what if I am?"

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come from noble stock. You would make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

Asteria felt a surge of pride at Neville's answer: "I'll join you when hell freezes over—the same day we give you Malfoy without a fight! Dumbledore's Army!"

A deafening roar answered him, uncontained by the Silencing Charms. Asteria raised her head, trying to get a better look at this victory, at the students who were no doubt preparing to surge forward—but instead caught a glimpse of the Dark Lord, smiling, stroking the snake around his neck with a single white finger.

"Very well, then." The Dark Lord waved his wand, and a dark misshapen object flew through the open window and landed in his outstretched palm. He shook it once, and Asteria recognized the Sorting Hat. "On your head be it."

She wondered, suddenly, what it would take to reach her wand.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," he continued. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for all worthy of bearing them." She saw him cast a reproachful glare at Draco and then turn crimson eyes on Neville. "What do you say, Neville Longbottom?"

Neville wasn't given the opportunity to answer. The Dark Lord waved his wand again, freezing him in place and pinning his arms to his sides. Asteria moved her right hand back a few inches, toward her wand, and pain shot up her arm.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me." Another flick of his wand, and the Sorting Hat settled on Neville's head, covering his eyes. Seconds later, it burst into flames. His screams urged her to press forward, ignoring the pain as she inched her hand closer to her belt.

"And Draco will show us what happens to those who pledge me their loyalty and turn aside from that oath."

Draco let out a strangled yelp through closed lips, and his mother shouted his name. Asteria started, raising her head, and saw Nagini slither from the Dark Lord's shoulders to the ground. The snake glided silently toward them. Asteria felt a cold rush of panic and reached for her knife instead, but it wouldn't be enough; the snake was too big and she could see the rows of teeth glinting in her mouth as she approached; Asteria reached for her knife anyway as the snake reared up to strike….

She barely heard the roar, like that of thunder, approaching from all directions. At first she jumped, trying to scramble to her feet (though her trembling limbs wouldn't allow it) thinking it might be an earthquake, but the ground remained steady. It drowned out Narcissa's screams and filled the night.

At the same moment, she saw feet approaching. Reaching her wand at last, Asteria drew it, unsure if the owner of those feet was friend or foe. She looked up as Neville swung a sword in a smooth arc, silver blade flashing, and severed Nagini's head in one swift motion. Asteria laughed as the snake hit the ground in two pieces.

Another pair of feet joined Neville's, and the next thing she knew a strong hand was helping her stand. She swayed, felt the same hand take hold of her arm, and righted herself. Draco, freed from the curse, reached for her before his mother grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the castle.

"You're all right?" Kingsley Shacklebolt shouted above the din. Of all the sights she'd seen that night, his face was the most welcome. She nodded, smiling, tears stinging her eyes. Shacklebolt returned it.

"Come, then." He took her arm and pulled her through the crowd.


	33. Asteria, Part Twenty Two

_Thank you to L.A.H.H., solemnly-up-to-no-good, yellow 14, Off Dreaming, JoStone, Marti. S.A and The Glowing Mischief for reviewing!_

* * *

Asteria thought at first that Kingsley might lead her away from the school, but soon realized he had joined the rush of people headed into the entrance hall. He ducked and weaved through the stream of bodies, pulling her along. When she saw who Kingsley was leading her to, she cried out with joy, dropped his hand, and ran forward. Her father caught her up in his arms and held her close.

"You came," she sobbed into his chest.

"Of course we came," Samuel shouted above the din. How he had heard her in the first place was beyond her. "Your mother just had to convince the neighbors first."

Asteria wiped her nose. "Mother's here? Where? Is she all right?"

Kingsley put his hand over Samuel's shoulder. "Try and get our forces to circle around and force them into the Hall. I'll do the same." Asteria watched him vanish into the crowd.

Samuel gently pried his daughter's arms from around his waist. "Spread the word. Get everyone into the Hall. It'll be easier to bring them down if we have them surrounded."

Asteria nodded, but made no move to obey.

"Go!" He gave her a shove. "Use those curses you've learned this year."

When she next glanced over her shoulder, her father was gone. She clutched her wand, one Dark curse after another flitting through her head; then she bolted through the crowd. Her heart pounded, and she prayed under her breath as she ran: "Oh God oh God oh God…" Somehow, those two words said it all. When she caught a glimpse of familiar black robes, she barely paused to think.

"_Sectumflagrante!_"

She hadn't intended much harm, but Yaxley still cried out as the curse cut a deep gash along his back. His shout drew the attention of two of his comrades, who spun, sighted her, and shouted curses. Asteria crouched down, then popped back up and ran for the Hall. One curse zipped past her head. Another missed her arm by an inch. She ducked a third, glancing back as she did. They were gaining, eyes flashing as they came, wands raised—

The yelp of surprise was mostly overtaken by the growing din, as she collided with something quite solid. She hit the floor, taking her victim with her, and scrambled to her feet the moment she regained her balance. That her sister was trying to right herself barely registered.

"Teri! What're you—"

Asteria spun so quickly she nearly fell again. "Daphne! You're okay?"

"No thanks to you." She took in the situation at a glance and raised her wand. "_Stupefy!_" The Stunner missed Yaxley by a few inches, and Daphne backed a step or two, shouting the curse again. Two jets of green flew past; Daphne took Asteria by the wrist and pulled her through the entryway, ducking behind the wall separating the two halls.

Asteria took a moment to catch her breath. "What'll we do?"

Daphne paused, clutching her wand; then she brightened. "We'll find Mother."

* * *

Frieda Greengrass may have spent much of the previous hour arguing with the neighbors, but she hadn't allowed that to slow her preparation for the battle. Her dishwater-blonde hair was tied back, save for a few strands that refused to comply. A pocketed belt was fastened around her waist; Asteria saw those pockets—and the daggers between them—bounce against her thigh as she climbed onto the table. Once there, Frieda wasted no time.

"You! Travers! Yes, I am talking to _you_, _Arschloch_!"

Daphne nudged Asteria hard and nodded at the table. With Frieda commanding the attention of most everyone nearby, the sisters were able to crawl beneath the table without attracting much notice. Once there, Asteria had as good a view of the ensuing duel as she could ask for—even if all she could see of Travers was his legs.

Travers spun, shouting a curse. Asteria heard her mother laugh.

"You call yourself a Death Eater? Ha! At your age, I'm surprised you still have teeth to chew!" Her curse, a jet of red that struck him in the side, punctuated this observation.

Asteria glanced at her sister, who smiled and shook her head. "That's Mother for you."

"Shouldn't we help her?"

"In a moment, perhaps. Do you know how long she's waited to use that joke?"

Asteria cast a fearful glance at the black robes approaching their table, the Death Eaters crawling toward it like cockroaches. Still no sign of her father, or any other ally who might rush to Frieda's aid. "We need to help her, Daph! They'll kill her!"

"Not if she kills them first."

"She won't kill them, you know she won't!"

"Then she'll make them wish she would."

"She's outnumbered!"

Daphne glanced at the black robes surrounding their table. "You're right." She scooted toward the bench, but Asteria grabbed her sleeve.

"Daphne, what are you doing?"

"Helping Mother." With the skill of a cat leaping onto a fence, Daphne broke from her sister's grip and stepped from the bench to the tabletop. Asteria clutched her wand, calculating how many curses she could fire before she was spotted and dragged out into the open. Maybe she should jump onto the table as well?

Frieda's voice shattered her thoughts.

"Yaxley called her a _what?_"

Asteria froze, listening. 'Whore' wasn't the worst insult she could think of, but from the way her mother shouted it, Yaxley may as well have called her a Mudblood. A moment passed before Asteria heard the next curse.

"_Imperio!_"

Asteria's breath caught in her throat. Never, in her short life, had she heard either of her parents use anything remotely similar to Dark magic. Scarcely daring to breathe, Asteria crawled onto the nearest bench for a closer look at the duel.

If she hadn't heard the curse, Asteria might have thought Yaxley had gone berserk. He raised his wand and Stunned one of his comrades, then sent another to the floor, writhing in pain as he sprouted fur. In moments, a mouse skittered away from the place a man had once stood. One Death Eater tried to restrain Yaxley, but was caught in the side by his knife. Another aimed his wand at Frieda, but Daphne Stunned him before he spoke the word.

"Asteria Grace! _What on earth_ are you waiting for?"

It wasn't quite a command, but coming from her mother, it was close enough. Asteria climbed onto the table, wand drawn. She ducked a curse and fired back, got a better look at where her attacker stood, and fired again.

When all of Yaxley's nearby allies had fallen or fled, Frieda lifted the curse. Yaxley shook his head as if to clear it, glanced to his left and his right, then stumbled back in horror. He lifted his head and fixed Frieda in a glare.

"_You…._"

Frieda smiled. "No, I believe it was _you, _actually."

Yaxley stumbled forward, wand trained on her, but she spoke before he could.

"_Stupefy._"

He fell to the floor, hitting his head on the stone. Frieda slid from the table, landing delicately on her feet. Approaching Yaxley, she wrinkled her nose as though smelling something unpleasant. "My daughter is _not_ a whore."

"It-it wasn't that bad, Mother."

She sniffed and lifted her chin regally. "I've never liked that man."

Asteria smiled, then glanced around. Her fear melted: Few Death Eaters remained nearby, and none stepped forward to challenge her mother. Frieda spotted one standing twenty or so feet away and chased after him, brandishing her wand in one hand and a knife in the other. One or two hesitantly leaped to his aid.

"Macnair! Get back here! I haven't forgotten Halloween, you know!"

Asteria looked at her sister. "What did he do at Halloween?"

Daphne began her reply, but it was cut short by two jets of green light, one following the other. "Get off the table!"

Asteria needed little urging. The table had provided a better view while Frieda defended it; without her, the two sisters were little more than sitting targets. She slid to the floor, keeping her wand trained on their attackers as they approached. Three—no, four—now five—not all Death Eaters but all angry and ready for a kill. She ducked one curse and barely jumped another. Now her target had moved—now another was closing in—

She yelped and jumped back as her nearest attacker fell to the floor. A few feet back, wand still raised, was Draco. Another quick curse, and a second attacker was gone.

"About—time—you joined in!" Daphne called.

Draco dodged to the right as a curse flew his way, then returned fire. Asteria found herself paired with the third attacker when she dodged his next curse. She tried to focus on her own curses, but his came so quickly she could only dodge and parry. A grin spread across his face and she tried not to look at it, but the truth was so clear: she was losing, he would kill her and turn on Draco and Daphne….

She thought, suddenly, of her mother Imperiusing Yaxley; of Draco Imperiusing Fenrir Greyback. Amycus's voice whispered in her ear: _"Those Unforgiveables….. You've got to mean them!"_

Asteria made her decision in seconds. Drawing herself up, she gripped her wand with both hands, focused all of her thought, all of her power, into the word. She couldn't think of what it did to him, to his mind; she thought only of her sister, of Draco, forced to face another attacker with the confidence of another kill—

"_IMPERIO!_"

Asteria knew the curse had worked before she opened her eyes. She felt the connection, a slender thread between her mind and his. No matter the command, he would obey, though it cost him his life—if she mulled it over for even a second, the sheer power made her dizzy.

Blinking, Asteria gave her first command: _Jump up and down. _

He did, robes bouncing, expression blank.

_Smile! _

He stopped jumping; a dopey grin spread across his face. Asteria found herself beginning to smile as well.

"Teri! _What the hell_?"

Draco's voice nearly broke the connection, but she quickly regained it. Cheeks burning, she gave her next command.

_Pick up the man dueling Draco and throw him at the one fighting Daphne. _

She didn't expect him to actually manage the lift, but he did. With strength that could only be explained by the Imperius Curse, he took hold of the first duelist and, oblivious to his kicking and protesting, hefted him into the air. Then, as Asteria mentally cheered, he threw the man at their comrade, knocking him to the floor like a screaming, swearing bowling pin. They landed in a heap some feet away and were quickly overtaken by the Order's forces.

"_Stupefy!_"

Asteria felt the connection snap in two as the man she'd Imperiused lost consciousness. The room spun. Daphne caught one arm and Draco the other.

"Sorry," Draco said, casting a look at Daphne. "I should've warned you not to break the connection so quickly."

Daphne sniffed. "Not like you had time."

"No, no, it's all right." The dizziness had begun to pass; she could place both feet on the floor and stand without swaying. "I'm fine now."

Daphne's hand loosened, then regained its grip when Draco didn't release his. He let out a breath. "Good thing I joined when I did." Asteria glanced at him just as he managed a small smile. "You're _really_ bad at this dueling business."

* * *

_If you're wondering why the Imperius Curse was used so much in this chapter, it's because...well, there's a lot of fun things you can do with it. :) _

_In DH, Rowling mentioned that Travers had "a crown of grey hair," so I decided to play with that a little. _

_And lastly, "Arschloch" is German for "asshole." (Edit: Thanks to Thetys for correcting my spelling!)_


	34. Letter Twelve

_Thank you to L.A.H.H., Thetys, JoStone, yellow 14, Shahrezad1, The Glowing Mischief, SheWhoDreamsOutLoud, Off Dreaming and solemnly-up-to-no-good for the reviews! _

* * *

_Mum took me by the wrist the moment she got close enough. Even when we made it inside the school, she didn't let go until she saw we were surrounded. "Blend in," she told me, and proceeded to curse every Death Eater in sight. Had she been anyone but my mother, I would have feared for my life. _

_The Dark Lord saw me almost as soon as I made it into the Hall. I don't know if you heard him give orders to kill me, but I'm sure you already knew of his intent and made a point of putting as much distance between us as possible. Why shouldn't you? The Dark Lord had won. No sense in aligning yourself with one marked for death. _

_I tried to follow Mum's orders. Fading into the background had never been my forte—especially when something went wrong—but now it was as though I held a target above my head. I ducked behind one of our reinforcements, only to have Avery spot me. I dodged the Killing Curse he threw my way and bolted for the nearest group of allies. The first one to see me—a man I didn't recognize—turned on me, wand drawn. _

"_There's one! Get him!" _

_Until then, I hadn't realized that not everyone who rushed to our aid was an Order member, let alone knew I'd turned traitor. So I did what any sensible person would do: I swore, turned and ran the other direction, followed by three or four (I never bothered to count them) angry wizards. _

_Oh well. You can't fault them for enthusiasm, I suppose. _

_That's how I spent most of the latter half of the battle: running and dodging. Toward the end I helped Teri and Daphne finish off a duel that probably would've killed them both. That was the first time I'd seen her use the Imperius Curse, and she did a decent job of it. (Although, I must say Asteria is the only person I know who would Imperius someone and, in the heat of battle, tell them to smile.) _

_Mum kept close. Every time I ran, she managed to find me. Sometimes it took a few minutes, but sooner or later I'd turn around and see her there, cursing the hell out of whichever Death Eater happened to be close. More than once, she saw me hiding or running, and she paused long enough to shout: "Keep fighting, Draco! It's not over!" _

_I thought I knew what she meant. From the moment I decided not to withdraw, the battle became (for me, at least) the final battle. Defeat the Dark Lord then and there, or die in the attempt—those were the only choices. When the reinforcements arrived, our side suddenly had a chance. Potter might be dead, our symbol gone, but we could still fight. The war could still be won. _

_The massive Shield Charm caught me by surprise. _

_I didn't even stop to think who might have cast it. Honestly, I didn't have time. One minute, I was ducking a Killing Curse, backing up against a wall; the next, I was watching Harry Potter yank that Invisibility Cloak from his shoulders. _

_There he was: the Boy Who Lived, the Boy Who Died, and the Boy Who Lived Again. He stood in the center of the Great Hall, his face smudged with dirt and dusted with dried blood, robes torn and frayed, brandishing my wand. I laughed when I saw him. I just couldn't help it. _

_Mum stepped back and took my wrist, drawing me to where Potter and the Dark Lord had begun to circle each other. I let her pull me forward; though I hated each step closer to the Dark Lord, I knew she was bringing me closer for a reason. _

"_I don't want anyone to try and help," Potter said, and everything seemed to fade. There was no one in the Hall but those two. The rest of us were all distant observers, a captive audience watching from the balcony. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me." _

_I'm still not sure how long they circled each other, shooting verbal barbs back and forth. It might've been a few minutes; it could have been longer. I remember watching them, watching Potter, silently cheering him on. Mum's grip on my wrist tightened, until it began to numb, but I hardly noticed. _

_I'd like to say I always knew Potter would win that duel, that I had the same faith Mum and Asteria possessed. True, Potter had returned from the dead, but he was still just a lone Gryffindor in my year, while the Dark Lord was still the most powerful wizard in the world. If Potter won this duel, it would be nothing short of a miracle. _

_Slowly, with the skill of a chess master, Potter unveiled the truth. His survival was no accident; nor was it because of Dumbledore. The pieces had been in place for years. Potter had only to make one move—one crazy move—and the Dark Lord's undoing would be complete. When I think back on all of what he said, I get chills. _

_It's like this: Dumbledore had the Elder Wand all along. When I Disarmed him in the tower that awful night, its loyalty transferred to me. ("If you'd only known!" Mum said later.) Then, when Potter took my wand back at the Manor, the loyalty of both wands—the one I bought at Ollivander's and the Elder Wand—went to him. And since the Dark Lord had the Elder Wand, and thought Potter was only bluffing…_

_He shouldn't have used a Killing Curse. The sensible thing would have been, of course, to test the Wand's loyalty with something less drastic—Rictumsempra, maybe—and see if the curse rebounded. _

_But the Dark Lord, being the Dark Lord, fired a Killing Curse. __I held my breath as the curse flew through the air, hit him, and rebounded._

_It _rebounded.

_Did you see it? Did you watch the curse strike his heart and retreat, leaving him standing tall as ever? I've never seen anything like it, and I doubt I ever will again. _

_The Dark Lord had no time to react before the curse hit him. I might've been imagining things, but I think the curse flew twice as fast after it rebounded, as if eager to strike the one who fired it. His eyes rolled back and he hit the floor with a dull thud. The Elder Wand flew from his hand and landed in Potter's. _

_I just stared and stared through the silence that followed. He was dead, killed right before my eyes—the war over in a matter of seconds. _

_Mum was one of the first to cheer. She shrieked with joy, pulled me close, and held me so tightly my ribs ached. When she pulled away, she was crying. So was I. Everyone, it seemed, was crying and shouting with joy, rushing toward Potter to embrace him or clap him on the back. _

_I don't know if you saw it or not. If you did, I'm sure you fled right after. Our greatest victory was your most stunning defeat. _


	35. Asteria, Part Twenty Three

_Thank you to L.A.H.H., yellow 14, Shahrezad1, The Glowing Mischief, Off Dreaming, aleera and solemnly-up-to-no-good for the reviews! _

* * *

Asteria had difficulty, later, discerning when the battle ended and the celebration began.

Cheers swept through the Great Hall. Everyone, it seemed, was crying or hugging on somebody else. She shrieked and embraced Daphne, scarcely realizing who it was until they separated for a moment. Close by, she saw Neville Longbottom clapping Theodore Nott on the back, then rushing forward for a word with Harry Potter. Frieda clapped and cheered, wrapping her arms around Professor McGonagall. Professor Slughorn pushed his way to the front of the crowd and was caught by Samuel Greengrass's hearty handshake. Asteria dipped her head and melted into the throng, hoping he hadn't seen her. She would apologize for Stunning him later.

Somewhere in the midst of all the joy, Asteria decided she was tired and sat down on a bench. As the fury of battle bled from her veins, the aches and pains of the Cruciatus Curse returned. Sitting down sent a cold shudder of relief through her. Daphne took a seat as well, sighing.

"Not nearly so packed, now that You-Know-Who's forces are gone, isn't it?"

Asteria nodded. "I never knew there were so many of them."

"There probably weren't. Draco said he went on a recruiting blitz just before the battle."

She nodded again, glancing around. The Dark Lord's forces had fled the moment their master was defeated; a few had begun their escape before his body hit the floor. She remembered seeing their black robes filter through the crowd. Scant minutes later, all but Draco had vanished. Aurors, acting on Kingsley's orders, clustered together and hastily drew up strategies. Now and then, a group of three or more would stand and leave the Hall, wands drawn, bandying details of their plan back and forth.

Kingsley floated between the groups of Aurors and the groups of fighters. Sometimes he took a seat and talked for a few minutes. Other times, he simply clasped a hand or a shoulder and offered a few words before moving on. Asteria saw him pause by her parents' table. He spoke briefly and turned, but Frieda caught his hand and held him there until he'd given a satisfactory answer to her question.

"What're they saying?"

Daphne shrugged, resting her head on her folded arms. "How should I know?"

Asteria hoped Kingsley would stop by their table, but he walked to the other side of the Hall. She considered rising and asking her parents what was said, but just the thought of standing made her legs ache.

A loud clang jerked Asteria's attention to the other side of the table. The ruby-handled sword Neville had drawn lay on the table, and Neville was just sitting down beside it. He set a plate down, wiped his hands on his robes, and lifted his sandwich.

"Where'd you get that?" Daphne asked.

"House-elves," Neville said around a bite. Melted cheese dripped from one corner of the bread, and Asteria's mouth watered. "Don't know how they can cook at a time like this, but I'm sure glad they did."

Daphne placed a palm on the table and pushed herself to her feet. "In that case, I'm going to the kitchens. You want anything, Ter?"

"Please."

She lifted a brow. "Anything in particular?"

"I don't care."

Daphne hadn't taken more than a few steps when Hannah Abbot, Seamus Finnegan, and Dennis Creevey sat down, one after the other. Seamus took the sword from the table, silver blade glinting in the golden morning sunlight. He gave a low whistle.

"Sword of Gryffindor," he said appreciatively. "If anyone deserves it, it's you, Nev."

Neville shrugged, but Asteria saw him smile as he bit into his sandwich. She could only blink in surprise.

"You don't mean _the _Sword of Gryffindor?"

Seamus grinned. "There's only one I know of."

Asteria shook her head. "Wow." She gave a small laugh. "It's incredible."

Daphne set two plates on the table and resumed her seat. "What's incredible?"

Asteria had bitten into her sandwich without bothering to examine it, and peanut butter clung to the roof of her mouth. She swallowed, but Terry Boot had already joined them. "The Sword of Gryffindor," he said.

"Where?"

He nodded at the sword on the table. "There. That's how Neville killed that snake."

"You're kidding."

Students flocked to their table. Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs—all found a place to sit and admire the ruby-studded silver. A hundred questions were tossed Neville's way: "Where did you get it?" "Did you really pull it from that old Sorting Hat?" "How'd you know what to do?"

A flash of pale blond caught her eye, and she stood, raising her hand in a wave. Draco spotted it and hurried over, coming to a halt a few yards away. His grey eyes darted over the group, and he froze, as if unsure he was allowed to come further.

Neville rose and waved. "Come on, Malfoy! What're you waiting for?"

A quick smile flitted over his face, and he came around as Asteria scooted over to make room for him.

* * *

The celebration continued for hours. Joy over the Order's victory was passed from table to table, and it took a while for everyone to eat their fill.

Sometime before noon, Frieda stopped behind Asteria and Daphne. "Your father and I are staying to help with cleanup," she said. "We're going to get some sleep."

"You'll be in Slytherin, then? Dad's going to Ravenclaw?"

Frieda waved her hand, as if swatting the question away. "I don't know, _Liebchen. _Hufflepuff is closest; we might go there."

Daphne yawned. "Good enough for me." With a small smile, she nudged her sister. "Come on, Teri. I think Hufflepuff's the only House you haven't seen yet."

* * *

She never thought how extensive the damage was until it came time to clean.

The destruction she'd seen in the entrance hall was repeated on a smaller scale in each corridor. Piles of rubble littered the floor beside gaping holes in the walls. Nearby, the floors were scattered with bits of stone and dust. Several classrooms stood unguarded, their doors lying on the stone floor or leaned haphazardly against the doorways. But worst of all were the frequent spots of red, appearing where Asteria least expected to see them—on the stairs, in a dusty corner, just inside a bathroom. She tried to close her eyes and banish them with a flick of her wand or a few swipes of a rag, as her mother did, but the untold stories attached to those bloodstains froze her in her tracks.

Standing beside her at the mouth of a corridor, Draco swore.

Neville sighed, lifting a bucket of cleaning solution. "Well, we'd best get to work. The sooner we get it cleaned, the less we'll have to look at it."

* * *

Given the state of the castle, Asteria was surprised how quickly cleaning progressed. After several days, Hogwarts still hadn't reached its prewar glory, but it was beginning to look less like a battlefield and more like a school.

She wandered the corridors with Neville and Draco, binding the castle's smaller wounds, taking note of the more serious ones. The adults would heal them later.

Usually, conversation flowed easily between the three of them. The goings-on in the recently restored Ministry provided hours of banter, debate and speculation. When waters from that well grew stale, discussion turned to jokes or the impending release of Azkaban's innocent.

Today, however, both Draco and Neville went about their work in silence.

For the first few minutes, Asteria dismissed it. They were just tired, she told herself, sick of hanging about a castle still in shreds. Beads of sweat rolled down Draco's brow, and Neville's face was covered in dust. They were probably just longing to bathe, she thought. She swept up a pile of shattered stone, humming a hymn.

When the rubble lay in a tidy pile, she tossed one of her braids over her shoulder. For the first time, she got a good look at the hole in the wall. The small circle at the top looked a bit like a head, the jagged oval more like a body. She giggled.

"Looks like they sent Alecto through here."

Neville looked up, squinting at the hole. "I guess so." He went back to scrubbing the wall.

Asteria's smile drooped, but she quickly brightened. Maybe Draco would see what she had. "See, Draco? Doesn't it look like she just ran through the wall?"

If not for the quiet of the corridor, Asteria might have thought he hadn't heard her. He stood, dusted off his robes, and moved on to the next task.

* * *

Draco picked at his food that night. Asteria nudged him once or twice, joking about how his food wasn't going to eat itself (though wouldn't it be funny if it did!) but he simply stood and walked away, leaving his plate. Hurt, she caught Neville's gaze from across the table. "Did I say something wrong?"

Neville frowned. "He didn't tell you?" He leaned over, dropping his voice to a near-whisper. "His dad was captured today."

Her eyes widened at this. "When?"

"Late this morning, but he didn't tell me until after noon." He sat back, digging his fork into his baked potato. "Even then, I had to threaten Veritaserum before he opened up."

"No wonder he's upset! Poor Draco... You think his dad'll go to Azkaban?"

Neville shoved a forkful of potato into his mouth. "I'd be surprised if he didn't, the bastard."

The word hit her like a slap. "Why? What did he do?"

He looked at her in surprise. "You don't know?"

"No….am I supposed to?"

"You were there when it happened."

"When what happened?"

He looked at her for a long moment, then cut a bite of chicken. "You must not have seen, then. I didn't see it either—the Hat was over my eyes."

Asteria waited, longing to ask, fearing the answer. She watched as Neville chewed and swallowed, then leaned forward again. She followed his lead; their heads met in the middle.

"Ginny said that just before You-Know-Who set that snake on Draco, he turned to his dad. Gave him this sharp sort of look, like he was asking permission."

"I can't see You-Know-Who asking permission for anything."

"Well, it didn't matter what Lucius said; You-Know-Who would've done it anyway. But he wanted to make sure Lucius knew what he was going to do. And you know what Lucius did?"

"What did he do?"

"He looked away." Neville sat back again, mouth tight. "Not the way he should've, not panicked or angry or like he was planning a way to get his son out of the whole mess—but like he was embarrassed."

Asteria sat back, feeling as though Neville had punched her stomach. "He didn't. He—he wouldn't. I mean, I know Lucius Malfoy isn't the best man around, but…."

"Well, he did. Ask Ginny if you don't believe me." He sawed his chicken, then speared his next bite with more force than was needed. "He may as well have said 'Go ahead. Let that snake eat him. I'll watch.' And if I hadn't made it in time, that's exactly what would've happened."

She stood, but a wave of dizziness engulfed her, and she sat down again. What Neville told her made no sense. If her own father was faced with that choice, he would rush over and carry her off or shield her from whatever came. Her mother would call the Dark Lord a filthy name, then put a knife in his heart. The thought of her parents simply leaving her to her fate was not only ridiculous, but downright laughable.

But her father was no Lucius Malfoy. He was Samuel Greengrass, a man who smiled at the men who would kill him if they learned the truth, laughed at their jokes and called them friends. He earned the hatred of comrades for the safety of strangers. And despite running an operation that put himself and his family at risk, he always managed to deflect the slightest hint of suspicion, ensuring the Death Eaters' visits were friendly ones.

She had seen Narcissa Malfoy around the castle, aiding in cleanup, holding the occasional conversation with other adults who had stayed. When he first joined Dumbledore's Army, Draco told her that his mother was an Order informant. He never mentioned his father. How would Lucius have reacted, she wondered, if he had learned his wife and son had both turned traitor?

Asteria couldn't bring herself to ponder that question.

She put her head in her hands. "I…I can't believe it. That's….it's…."

"Horrible? Cowardly?"

"It's just _unthinkable_!" She shook her head. "How could he?"

Neville sighed. "Wish I knew." He forked another bite into his mouth.

"Where'd Draco go? I have to go talk to him."

"Just leave him be for now. Hasn't quite decided what he wants, if you know what I mean."

She stared at him. "You mean….he might_ want_ his dad in Azkaban?"

He shrugged. "At least a bit. Wouldn't you?"

She sighed, watching the door Draco had walked through moments ago. "Maybe. I mean, he_ is_ his dad, but he still…." Asteria shook her head. "No wonder he's so torn up."


	36. Asteria, Part Twenty Four

_Thank you to L.A.H.H., yellow 14, Tathiana, Off Dreaming, The Glowing Mischief and solemnly-up-to-no-good for the lovely reviews!_

* * *

When the last wall had been repaired, the last suit of armor restored and the final tapestry hung in place, Frieda and Samuel took a walk through the castle. "It looks just like it did when I attended," Samuel proclaimed, and Asteria knew cleanup was finished.

"Let's take the girls home," Samuel said.

Frieda shook Narcissa's hand. "Lovely working with you, Narcissa."

"Please, call me Cissy."

She smiled and nodded, then began walking toward the doors. "Come, girls. Your things are in the carriage."

Asteria followed her sister, giving Draco a wave over her shoulder. A few steps later, she thought better of it, ran back and wrapped her arms around his neck. He stiffened, and then returned the embrace.

"See you at the trial?" she whispered in his ear.

His hand moved from her shoulder to the small of her back. "Yeah. See you there."

"Come on, Teri!"

Asteria pulled away, gave him a quick smile, and hurried to catch up with her family.

* * *

The Greengrass home held the odd smell of disuse—halfway between stale and fresh, as though all the usual scents of soap and cleaners and household fragrances had simply hung in the air, awaiting the family's safe return. It felt strange to step over that threshold, trunk in tow, with her parents leading the way. It was the timing, Asteria reasoned. Of course it was odd to come home when June hadn't yet begun.

"Home again," Samuel announced, closing the door. Asteria heard the wall clock counting the seconds.

"Be sure to keep the house clean." Frieda swept past her daughters, a paper-wrapped package tucked under her arm. "Your uncles will come early tomorrow. I said I would help them prepare their testimonies." She held the package up to a wall, pursed her lips and tried another one. "And your _Opa_ will return from Canada in a few weeks…."

The thought of seeing their grandfather again brought excited squeals from the two sisters. Samuel grinned. "We thought you'd like hearing that. Frieda, are you going to hang that or not?"

Frieda narrowed her eyes at her husband. "I have to find the perfect spot! Are you going to help me, or just stand there asking stupid questions?"

Samuel smiled and, with a sigh, took the package from his wife. He tore the paper and let it fall to the floor.

"_I_ was going to do that, dear."

"It might be easier to find the right spot if you can see how it will look." He passed the object to her, and Asteria glimpsed it as it changed hands. Her heart leaped.

"We're hanging the Star?"

Frieda gave her a long look. "Of course we are, _Liebchen. _The Dark Lord is gone. Why shouldn't we?"

Asteria shrugged. "I never said we shouldn't."

She took a seat on her trunk and watched her parents quibble over where to hang the Star, feeling strangely proud. A tiny part of her brain whispered that there would have been more pride in hanging it during the war, but she ignored it. They were hanging it now, and that was all that mattered.

After a few minutes, her parents stepped back. "There. How does that look, girls?"

"Wonderful," Daphne said.

Asteria shook her head to clear it and followed her sister's gaze. Her parents had hung the simple wooden Star of David on a stretch of wall just above the kitchen, where all who entered the house would see it. She smiled.

"I love it."

* * *

Asteria had ten days to prepare for the Carrows' trial. One was spent in a small, bare, windowless room in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, pouring out her story to a middle-aged Auror who looked as though he could use a change of routine. His Quick-Quotes Quill scratched away as he watched her, his clasped hands resting on the table.

"You said the Carrows introduced new curses around March. Can you describe these additional curses for me, Miss Greengrass?"

She paused, looking at her lap. "They were….bloody. And cruel."

"How so?"

"There was one—Sectumflagrante—she made me use that the most. I—it cuts people open before burning the wounds closed."

"And how often did you perform this curse?"

Asteria swallowed, daring a glance at the Auror. What was his name again? Meacham? Mitchell? He watched her through half-closed eyes, as though he had heard everything she had to say a hundred times before. Maybe he had, she thought. He had probably listened to a dozen testimonies like hers—worse, even, if he happened to interview Muggleborns sentenced to Azkaban. He had probably heard them sob over tales of the dementors, of the cruelty of the guards and the loss of their loved ones….

"How often, Miss Greengrass?"

Asteria started as his bland voice jerked her from her reverie. "Qu-quite a few, sir. She…took me along for detentions after she introduced the new curses. She made….made me perform it—Sectumflagrante—over and over until I had it down."

"Had it down?"

His eyes were narrowed now, as if in suspicion. Asteria couldn't be sure, but she felt a sudden pang of fear. What did this man think of her? Was she just another victim of the Carrows? Or was she a willing accomplice who got scared when she realized the Dark Lord's regime was crumbling?

He couldn't think that, Asteria told herself. He worked for Kingsley. Kingsley would make sure he knew the truth. But she remembered how hurried the new Minister of Magic had seemed the last time she saw him, the dark circles under his eyes; the clipped, brisk way he addressed her. She thought of the papers tucked under his arm, the floating scrolls following him down the hallway. Even if Kingsley remembered to tell his Aurors that the entire Greengrass family had been spies, he hadn't had time to do it.

She blinked at the Auror again. His eyes were still narrowed; a hint of irritation had crept into his air of boredom. "I….Alecto….she wanted me to be as good at the curses as she was. She…." Asteria drew a shaky breath, continuing in a whisper. "She made me curse students until I was good enough."

"And you did this in addition to the Cruciatus Curse."

"I faked that one," she said quickly. "I couldn't fake the others."

"I see," the Auror said skeptically, shifting his weight in his chair. "And did you sign up for these detentions with the new curses, as you did before?"

"No." The word came out more forcefully than she intended; the Auror lifted a brow. "I…I didn't sign up for them. But Alecto kept putting me down for more and more…." She shivered, remembering Neville slumped against the wall, blood staining his robes, praising her efforts. _"Good work….I actually felt it that time." _

"Miss Greengrass?"

Once again, she started. "Hm?"

The Auror sighed. "I asked you why it was you and not your sister chosen to perform these curses."

"I'm a Ravenclaw."

"And your sister is a Slytherin, is she not?"

"Y-yes. We—my family, that is—we decided Daphne should lay low this year. Keep her head down so she wouldn't get recruited by You-Know-Who."

"And this forced you to become Alecto's favorite."

"No. Well, yes. I….." She drew a breath, feeling the heat of his stare burn her cheeks. "I-it was my grandfather who suggested it. Just after the Ministry fell, he said it would be easier for my parents if one of their daughters was respected by the Death Eaters. Since I'm a Ravenclaw….." She sighed again. "He said they wouldn't expect it. They wouldn't believe a Ravenclaw could be….could act like they did. So if I just pretended for a while, I could cover for my parents and for Daphne."

"Was it your maternal or paternal grandfather who suggested this?"

"Maternal."

He shuffled a few papers, then spoke without looking up. "Anton Linder, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"The same Anton Linder who was found dead in his home last June?"

"He isn't dead, sir."

The Auror's eyes narrowed.

"He isn't! He faked his death so You-Know-Who couldn't recruit him! And then he went to Canada so he could smuggle Muggleborns out of the country…." She felt close to tears, but she held it in. She couldn't cry in front of this man. He might think she was trying to pull something over on him.

"Wait here." He stood, the old chair groaning in protest, and left the room. The loud slam of the door made her jump, and she was left in silence.

What would he say, when he returned? It would depend on who he spoke to, she decided. But which Aurors knew her grandfather was alive? Kingsley, of course; he had always known. Would this Auror get a chance to ask him? Or would Kingsley simply wave him on, instructing him to ask someone else? And if this Auror decided she was lying...what then? Would he use that supposed falsehood to unravel the rest of her story, make it appear as though she enjoyed her role as Alecto's favorite and was simply covering her tracks?

Moments later, the Auror returned and resumed his seat. With a sigh, he rolled the notes he had taken into a scroll and set it aside. "The Minister of Magic has confirmed the bit about your grandfather, Miss Greengrass. Anton Linder evidently owled him this morning."

Relief flooded her like warm honey.

"Now." The Auror sucked on his Quick-Quotes Quill again and poised it above a fresh roll of parchment. "Tell me about your involvement with one Draco Malfoy."

* * *

Her mother rose from the bench as Asteria made her way down the corridor. "How did it go, _Liebchen_?"

"Fine."

Frieda tilted Asteria's chin upward with a single finger and looked into her eyes. "Are you sure? This isn't a 'fine' face I see."

"It went fine. Can we go home?"

"Not until you tell me what is wrong." Frieda took a seat on the bench and patted a spot beside her.

"I'm fine, Mother. I….I just need to use the loo." It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep from breaking into a run. As she rounded a corner, she glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see her mother hadn't followed. She locked the restroom door and sank onto the cool tile.

She could tell her mother about the interview. One word to Kingsley and the Auror's job would be history. She pictured him muttering under his breath as he packed his office supplies into a box and felt her spirits lift a little.

But as she gave it more thought, Asteria realized the Auror hadn't said anything outright insulting. The questions he asked were simple enough, probably lifted from some Auror interviewing handbook and twisted enough to fit this case. It was the _way_ he asked them that made her want to weep and strike him at the same time—a detail that would not be reflected in his notes.

Asteria stood, surprised to see her hands shook. She grasped the counter, hoping to steady them, but the trembling migrated to her arms. Maybe if she kept her hands in her pockets, her mother wouldn't notice. She looked into the mirror to test her smile and felt a pit form in her stomach.

She had pulled her hair back for the interview, tying the ponytail with a simple black ribbon. Every stray lock was pinned in place. Her dark robes were simple and neat, with no jewelry or collars. When she readied herself for the interview, she had thought only of practicality, dressing comfortably while hoping to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

Now, she saw what the Auror might have seen: a girl who had used her status to earn the Carrows' favor, who had blushed at their flattery and learned their curses. She had listened intently to their lectures and studied their books late into the night. That she had used the information she absorbed to strengthen her cover as a spy didn't matter. When this Auror looked at her, he saw a miniature Alecto, one who had the sense to run when she saw the Dark Lord was losing. How many others saw the same thing?

Asteria yanked the ribbon from her hair and combed it with her fingers, but the bump left by the ribbon remained. She tied it again, at the nape of her neck this time, and pulled the pins from her hair, shaking the errant locks free.

A knock sounded at the door, making her jump. "Asteria? Are you in there?"

She swallowed. "I'm here, Mother."

"Are you all right?"

"Y-yes. I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute."

Asteria tilted her head, studying the effect. She couldn't wear her hair like this for the Carrows' trial. Not unless she wanted to give Cale Mahler something to sneer at.

Her mother knocked again. "Are you sure you're okay, _Liebchen_?"

Exhaling, Asteria stuffed the pins into her pocket, fixed a smile in place, and opened the door.


	37. Letter Thirteen

_Thank you to the following reviewers: L.A.H.H., Tathiana, Off Dreaming, The Glowing Mischief, aleera, yellow 14, SheWhoDreamsOutLoud and solemnly-up-to-no-good! _

* * *

_Mum and I didn't go back to the Manor. Sometime during cleanup, Mum's sister Andromeda joined in, and what with one thing and another, she ended up inviting us to stay with her. Of course Mum accepted. She and I had never discussed returning to the Manor, but when she announced we weren't returning, I wasn't surprised. That she dreaded the place as much as I did made perfect sense. _

_Aunt Andy's place (she insisted I call her that from day two) was about as far from the Manor as you could get—a pleasant, one story home with flowers and shrubs in front, a stream winding its way through the property, and heavy white curtains in the windows. Mum complimented Andy on her taste, but I figured they had probably been used to keep prying eyes at bay during the war. _

_Mum slept in the guest room, while Andy slept in the room she'd shared with Ted. One door remained closed. Somehow, I knew it had belonged to her daughter. I don't think she was planning to put me there, but all the same, she seemed relieved when I told her I didn't mind sleeping on the sofa. _

_I'm sorry to say I was a bit afraid of her when we first met. Perhaps it's because she looked so much like Bellatrix—the same regal features, the same dark eyes. Her hair was a shade lighter, her eyes kinder, but if I met her in a dark corridor or in the backyard after nightfall, it didn't matter. The first time I shrank away from her, she was confused. The second time, she was hurt. After that, she simply sighed and moved on. Eventually, I taught my brain to distinguish between her and Bella. _

_Ted was evidently one of those Muggleborns who clung to his roots. During his life, he amassed a large collection of Muggle records, which Andy hid after the Ministry fell. When the war ended, she took them out of storage and displayed them proudly alongside her other records. That said, I never expected her to actually play them. _

_She put one on the phonograph a few days after Mum and I came to live with her. The sounds that poured from that little record were so strange I had to ask. _

"_Who is this?" _

_Andy smiled, spraying cleaner at a spot on the curtains. "It's a band called Led Zeppelin."_

"_Never heard of them." _

"_They're Muggle." _

"_Oh." I hefted the bucket over to an especially dusty corner and began scrubbing. Had she put the record on because she enjoyed it, or did she want to trick me into making some snide remark about Muggles? I still hadn't decided whether the singer was male or female. What did Aunt Andy think of this band? Was I supposed to hate them, or like them? If I hated them, she'd assume it was because they were Muggle. But if I said I liked them, would she think I was just saying it to please her? _

_Fortunately, she never asked my opinion. _

_Ted had at least a hundred records, and Andy seemed intent on hearing every single one of them. She'd let one play as she and Mum fixed dinner, or drag the phonograph outdoors so she could listen in the garden. More than once she calmed baby Teddy by singing along. At night, she'd put the phonograph in her bedroom, and I'd fall asleep as soft strains of music floated through her door. One night, she forgot. I lay awake for hours until I remembered enough of one song to let it play in my head. _

_Whatever bad blood might have stood between her and Mum, it was gone now. At the very least, they managed to put it aside long enough to ply me with food. Every meal came with second or third helpings, which they heaped onto my plate without asking permission. If I picked at a meal, Mum and Andy would stay at the table, talking, until they decided I'd eaten enough. Whenever I joined them in the living room, one of them would suddenly produce a snack—a tin of bonbons, a plate of cookies, a tray of tiny sandwiches—and place it within my reach. After two years of barely eating, sick with fear, I was never very hungry, but Mum and Aunt Andy would always insist I take something. I didn't realize what they were doing or why until the day I tried on my robes for the Carrows' trial. _

_Mum didn't want to buy new dress robes, so she sent the house-elf back to the Manor for some of our old ones. She returned with several changes and, after I chose a set, Mum had me try them on. We had purchased them about two years prior, and I hadn't grown much since then. So I argued, claiming they'd still fit, but she finally wore me down. _

_They were still long enough, and the green trim hadn't faded. But they were huge on me, so loose I had to pull the cloth tight around my torso just to make them fit. I didn't hear Mum and Andy come in, so I jumped and nearly fell on my backside when they both appeared in the full-length mirror. _

_Mum sighed, motioning for me to turn so she could see the back. "I'll have to take them in." _

_Andy said nothing, but her eyes were soft. I recognized the expression—pity—though I hadn't seen it much over the past two years. _

_She came with us to the trial, carrying baby Teddy in her arms, walking on my left side while Mum took my right. They kept moving forward, ignoring the odd looks we got. Just outside Courtroom Ten, we ran into Asteria. For a long moment, I could only stare. _

_She wore pale pink robes with long, loose sleeves. Over her shoulders was draped a sky-blue shawl, and she had tied another shawl—ivory, embroidered with colorful flowers and birds—around her waist like a belt. Her slippers were such a bright yellow they hurt my eyes. She wore her brown hair in loose curls, with a jade-green scarf and a daisy tucked behind her ear. _

"_Wow," I said, blinking. _

"_What a….creative ensemble," Mum said. Asteria grinned and spun in a circle, showing off every angle. "It looks lovely on you." _

"_However did you come up with it?" Andy asked. _

_Asteria shrugged. "I just put some different pieces together, that's all." _

_She was still smiling, but I saw the flicker in her eyes. Black had always been Alecto's color of choice. Asteria's clothes were her way of distancing herself from her teacher. _

_Her mother and sister appeared then, followed by aunts, uncles and cousins. I blinked again. Asteria had never mentioned all this family, and I couldn't imagine having that many relatives. As she would inform me later, that wasn't even all of them. Mum gave me a quick hug before she and her sister were absorbed into their circle. They disappeared into the courtroom, but Asteria hung back. _

"_When do they want you to testify?" she asked. _

"_Soon," I told her. "I should probably go." _

_She nodded and started for the door. "Good luck, then. I'm sure you'll do fine." _

_I drew a breath and went around to the other side of the courtroom, finding the door I would come through. To my relief, Neville was already waiting. He grinned when he saw me. _

"_You're up after me, aren't you?" _

_I nodded. _

"_What're you going to say?" _

_I reached into my pocket and produced the notes Mum and I had prepared together. Neville read them and stuck out his lower lip appreciatively. _

"_Looks good." He handed them back. "Should send those bastards away for a long time, eh?" _

"_I hope so." One of the guards opened the door, and I caught Neville's sleeve before he entered the courtroom. _

"_Good luck, mate." _

_Neville grinned and patted my shoulder. "Same to you." _

_The guards didn't speak as I waited with them. I don't think they'd spoken to Neville, either, but all the same, I was almost glad when they opened the door and sent me through. _

_I kept my gaze straight ahead as I made that walk. I could feel everyone in that room staring. The cold seemed to press down on me, broken only by the heat of Amycus and Alecto's glares. My footsteps, muffled by the slippers Mum had chosen, seemed too loud. I took my seat and looked at my hands until my name was called. _

_While Neville had been chosen to speak for the students given detentions, I was chosen to represent the purebloods coerced into performing detentions. I'd almost had Mum ask Kingsley why he'd picked me and not Asteria, but I already knew the answer: As a Death Eater, I had access to more information than she did, and would seem the more credible witness. The Wizengamot would use the evidence Asteria provided in her interview, but the speaking was left to me. _

_I told them the basics: The Carrows were fond of cruelty, and even fonder of trapping students into failure. Humiliation and threats were the norm. Half-bloods and dissenters were either beaten or assigned detentions when they failed to perform the curses up to standard. Purebloods and Slytherins who failed were beaten with varying degrees of brutality, their bruises covered with Glamor Charms. That last bit caused a wave of murmurs, from both the audience and the Wizengamot. _

"_You volunteered!" Alecto cried. Her voice startled me, and for one awful second, I thought I was back in the dungeons, hearing her scream about shaming my family, threatening torture, slashing her knife across my cheek. "You and that Greengrass girl—the pair of you enjoyed it just as much as Crabbe and Goyle!" _

_I blinked, and the scene vanished. I wasn't at school; I was in Courtroom Ten, perched on the witness stand while Alecto and her brother sat chained on the floor. For the first time, I smiled. "Only after I learned to fake it." _

_Kingsley asked for elaboration, so I told him about the code. The Carrows sat back in stunned silence, and I scanned the audience for Mum. _

_She sat with the Linders and Greengrasses, aunts and uncles and cousins from both families surrounding her. When I caught her eye, she smiled. Asteria smiled too. _

_I left the courtroom after that, deciding it was easier than picking my way through the stands to sit with Mum. The thought of sitting near the floor with strangers made my stomach clench. Neville evidently had the same idea; we met in the corridor and spent the rest of the trial playing with the lifts or talking in the Atrium (a far more pleasant place, now that the hideous statue had been removed). For all his calm composure, I don't think he wanted to spend another minute with the Carrows. We returned to the courtroom when the trial's allotted time reached its end. Asteria greeted us with a smile. _

"_They got life," she told us. "No parole." _


	38. Asteria, Part Twenty Five

_Thank you to the following reviewers: L.A.H.H., Sister to the Dark Lord, Off Dreaming, The Glowing Mischief, aleera, yellow 14, fencingfan, SheWhoDreamsOutLoud and solemnly-up-to-no-good! _

* * *

On the Saturday following the Carrows' trial, Draco burned his Death Eater robes.

Asteria met him, as well as a group that included Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, on a stretch of beach near Shell Cottage. Beneath a sky that threatened rain, she helped him place his robes in a rickety canoe, then cheered as he pushed it out to sea and set it ablaze. Smoke blended with the smell of salt and rain; Draco closed his eyes and breathed it in.

Potter stayed longer than Asteria expected, leaving when Granger announced she needed to finish her school shopping. Ron said it was too soon to think about school, but finally agreed to join her. George said he had to mind the shop, and Ginny agreed she might as well get her school shopping done while she had the chance.

Before he Disapparated, Potter pressed something into Draco's hand. "Thought you might want this back," he said with a grin.

Draco was still standing there a full minute later, staring at his old wand.

* * *

Platform Nine and Three Quarters seemed especially crowded that September. Eleven-year-olds who had received their acceptance letters on time chattered excitedly with older siblings or one another, while twelve-year-old Muggleborns who were accepted a year late stared at their surroundings with a mixture of awe and bewilderment. Third-years who should have been fourth-years stood by their trunks until friends were spotted, while fourth-years who should have repeated the previous year walked slowly to the train, flipping through third-year textbooks.

Asteria watched all this with one hand on her trolley, fingering her prefect badge with the other. If only Daphne were here, she thought. Rather than repeat her seventh year, relearning everything without the Carrows' emphasis on the Dark Arts, Daphne had elected to take her NEWTs at the end of the summer, in a special session offered to seventh-year Hogwarts students. While she had congratulated Daphne on her excellent scores, Asteria now longed to have her sister by her side.

Hermione Granger stood a few yards ahead, her Head Girl badge gleaming on her chest. Ron Weasley took her in his arms and kissed her in full view of everyone. Not more than three or four feet away was Cale Mahler, scowling as he pushed his trolley across the platform. His robes looked strangely bare without his prefect badge. At the train, he paused to exchange a few words with Trudy Alden, who threw an unfriendly glance Asteria's way. Asteria dipped her head, cheeks burning, and pushed her trolley to a different door. She could hide from Cale in the prefects' compartment this year.

"Need a hand?"

She turned, smiling at the familiar voice. "I thought you were already on the train."

Draco tapped her trunk with his wand, then lifted it over his shoulder and stepped onto the train. "I just got here, actually. Mum wanted a picture of me with my badge on."

"Where is it?"

"In my pocket." He hefted her trunk onto the rack above the seats, giving it an extra shove so it wouldn't fall when the train began moving. "I'll put it on when I need to."

Asteria grinned. "I think you're the only student who was ever Head Boy two years in a row."

"Yeah." He stepped back onto the platform and lifted his own trunk. She followed him to the spacious compartment reserved for the Head Boy and Girl. "Could've done without _that_ honor."

"At least it's McGonagall who picked you this time."

"I told her I couldn't, but she kept sending the badge back." He stood on the seat to place his trunk on the rack. "I guess since Neville isn't repeating this year, she didn't have much of a choice."

"Oh, she had a choice." Asteria gave a small laugh. "If she'd wanted someone else, she would've sent the badge to another student."

"I guess so." Draco jumped back onto the floor and surveyed his work. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra seat in your car, would you?"

"Sorry."

He sighed. "Ah well. Granger will probably spend the whole trip reading, anyway."

"You can always talk with her. Make the trip less boring."

"I doubt she'll speak to me."

"She seemed friendly enough when you burned your robes."

"That was different."

Asteria wanted to object, but decided it was pointless. "You and I can meet up later. Before or after lunch, do you think?"

"Before." He sank onto a seat and pulled a book from his school bag. "You should probably get to your car."

She nodded and left the compartment.

* * *

At the Hogsmeade station, the first thing Asteria noticed was the carriages. What she had once thought were invisible horses now appeared to her as horse-like ghouls. Reptilian skin was spread over bones with no flesh in between. Bat-like wings were folded against dark hides. She felt their glittering white eyes upon her as she alighted from the train.

"Thestrals," Draco said grimly. She hadn't heard him approach.

Asteria nodded, watching the other students. Many of the third- and fourth-years strode boldly to the carriages, passing the Thestrals without so much as a backward glance. Dennis Creevey stared at them for a moment before shuddering, while Luna Lovegood patted one on the muzzle and stroked its mane. "Why haven't I seen them before?"

"They're only visible to those who have seen death," Theodore said, joining them.

Draco took her hand. "Come on. Let's get a carriage before they all leave."

Once they reached the carriage, Theodore was the first inside. Draco followed, shuddering, but Asteria stopped in front.

Up close, the Thestrals weren't so terrifying. Their coats were sleek and glossy, their skeletal features regal; their eyes, though expressionless, seemed intelligent as they watched her. She tilted her head to one side, and the Thestral did the same.

"Teri? What are you doing?"

From the corner of her eye, Asteria saw Millicent standing with one foot on the carriage step. She could feel the Thestral's eyes on her, and her heart pounded. She couldn't run now. What if she insulted it?

Before she could reconsider, Asteria reached out and placed her hand near the Thestral's muzzle, hovering a few centimeters above it. Almost instantly, the Thestral lifted its head, closing the gap. She laughed softly, stroking the smooth, slippery skin, moving her hand upward to touch the dark, gleaming mane. The Thestral nickered softly.

"Are you coming or not?"

Reluctantly, Asteria backed away, murmuring an apology to the Thestral. She climbed into the carriage and took her seat across from Draco.

"What were you _doing_?" Millicent asked.

"Petting the Thestral. I thought you were watching."

"We were, but _why_?"

Asteria shrugged. "They're not that bad," she said. "I don't see why everyone is so afraid of them."

Draco stared at her as though she'd just announced a longtime crush on Mr. Filch. Millicent scooted closer to the window.

"What?" She laughed. "Honestly, they're not that bad."

* * *

The Ravenclaw table was more crowded than ever, with the seventh-years who had chosen to repeat their final year, and the returning Muggleborns. Asteria bristled, expecting her Housemates to scoot closer together, erasing all but the most undesirable places, as they had the previous year.

Cale nudged his companions, and they placed their hands on the bench beside them, saving the spots. Luna Lovegood looked up and smiled, moving aside to make room for her. Parvati Patil patted the seat between them, and Asteria sat down.

"Thank you both."

"Of course," Parvati said.

Luna propped her chin on her hand and stared at the teacher's table, a dreamy smile tilting her lips. "We have new professors this year," she announced.

Resisting the urge to point out Luna's statement of the obvious, Asteria followed her gaze. Hagrid was seated between Slughorn and a woman she didn't recognize. Then there was Sinistra and Firenze and a man Asteria didn't know. The chair beside him was vacant.

A hush settled over the Hall as Headmistress McGonagall set the Sorting Hat on a stool.

The Hat sang of the war, of each House and its contribution—Harry Potter's sacrifice and Neville Longbottom's defiance of the Carrows; the Hufflepuffs who remained loyal, despite harsh treatment; the Ravenclaws who lent their cleverness to the effort, including one who "bought respect with suffering and lies." She felt her Housemates' eyes upon her, and her cheeks burned. Was the Hat referring to her?

When it reached Slytherin, she sat up a little straighter. She saw most of the Slytherin table do the same.

_And Slytherin, the Dark Lord's House  
Divided she remains  
Two broke his curse, that she may soon  
From the ashes rise again._

Draco drew back slightly, confusion etching his face. Asteria knew how he felt. The Hat was almost certainly referring to him, but what of the other? What curse had they broken?

These questions swirled through her head as the first-years came, one at a time, to be Sorted. She cheered with her Housemates as each new Ravenclaw joined their table, embracing those who wanted to be embraced, shaking hands with the rest. There were far more than there had ever been, but she knew many were the children of Muggles and enemies of the Dark Lord's regime.

When the last first-year joined the Hufflepuff table, McGonagall took her place behind the podium.

"I'm sure many of you have noticed our new teachers, Professors Gregor McManus and Melrose Altman, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration, respectively."

A flash of movement behind the podium caught Asteria's eye. She squinted at the figure making its way to the last vacant chair. When the tall, grey-haired man took his seat, she had to clap both hands over her mouth to contain a shout.

"And lastly, Professor Anton Linder will be teaching Muggle Studies which, as you know, is once again compulsory."

Polite applause followed these introductions, but Asteria clapped her hands until they stung. Once the Feast began, she hurried onto the stage. Her grandfather met her halfway between his chair and the steps and pulled her into his arms.

"Why didn't you tell me you were teaching here?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise, _Liebchen._"

Asteria laughed. "I was surprised, all right!" She hugged him again, inhaling the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to his robes. "I'm so glad you're here, _Opa._"

"So am I." He gave her one last squeeze, then pulled away and patted her shoulder. "Go join your friends. I'll see you tomorrow in class."

* * *

When everyone had eaten their fill, Asteria stood with the other prefects and led her House through the doors. More than a few paused to turn curious stares on the Star of David Draco had carved into the wall opposite the stage. One first-year tugged on her sleeve.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing.

"It's the Star of David."

"I know, but why is it there?"

Asteria smiled, glancing at Draco. He too had stood with the Slytherin prefects, but seemed content allowing them to lead the younger students out of the Hall. As far as she could tell, he hadn't noticed her. She smiled at the girl. "I'll tell you in the morning."


	39. Asteria, Part Twenty Six

_Thank you to the following reviewers: L.A.H.H., tenneyshoes, Off Dreaming, Kali98, Anonymous, aleera, yellow 14, SheWhoDreamsOutLoud and solemnly-up-to-no-good! _

* * *

The focus of Anton Linder's class was written across the blackboard in two-inch letters: INTRODUCTION TO MUGGLE CULTURE.

The sixth-year Ravenclaws and Slytherins filed in and took their seats—separating, as they always did, by House. But when Asteria claimed a desk near the door, a Slytherin girl named Blanche Radmacher waved her over, patting an empty desk. Asteria dropped her bag onto the floor beside the new desk, thanked Blanche, and set up her quill and parchment.

Murmurs fell silent as Anton Linder entered the room, marching over to his desk slowly but purposefully, opening the window shades with a flick of his wand. All eyes remained glued to him, their owners waiting for their first encounter with a new teacher. He stopped in front of his desk, turned on his heel to face them, and smiled.

"Good morning, everyone. I am Professor Linder."

A few murmured the greeting back to him; eyebrows raised at the thick German accent.

"I would like to get to know all of you, but I'm afraid we have little time today." He took a stack of papers from his desk and began passing them out. A question decorated the top of each page: WHY DO MUGGLES NEED ELECTRICITY? Seconds after he recieved his paper, Cale Mahler raised his hand.

"Yes? Mr.…."

"Mahler. Why are we covering this?"

"Because it's important."

"No, I mean, why are we covering it _now_? Professor Burbage didn't cover this until the middle of the year."

Anton chuckled. "Well, the question of electricity is an important one, many students here have a lot of catching up to do." He turned his back on the class, marching toward the blackboard. Cale skimmed his list, his growing indignation evident on his face.

Cale lifted the paper. "Professor, this is just a list of things that run on electricity! It doesn't explain why Muggles need it at all! Why, Professor Burbage spent three weeks teaching us this topic, and from the looks of things, you're covering it in a single day?"

When Cale had finished, Asteria's grandfather leaned against the blackboard with his arms folded, allowing a moment of silence to pass. "Professor Burbage was a fine teacher," he said, his words clipped. Asteria knew he was choosing them carefully. "But she never lived as a Muggle. And as such, she never learned how...mundane electricity is to them."

Blanche spoke without raising her hand. "And you did?"

Anton nodded. "From 1939 to 1946, I lived mostly in the Muggle world."

A hush fell over the room. Cale put his list down.

Trudy Alden raised her hand. "Why?"

"To help people," Anton said with a wave of his hand. "But that is another story for another time. Now. Why do Muggles need electricity? The short answer is: they don't. They survived for thousands of years without it, but so many of their modern inventions and conveniences require it that it has become something of a necessity for many…."

As Anton continued his lecture, Blanche leaned over. "You know him, don't you?" she whispered. "I saw you hugging him at the Welcome Feast."

"He's my grandfather."

"You'll tell us about him? Why he lived as a Muggle?"

She smiled. "Later."

* * *

The story of Anton Linder, the pureblood who defied both the Nazis and the Death Eaters, spread like spilled ink. By Friday evening, fifth-year Gryffindors were telling their younger Housemates how, years ago, their teacher had disguised himself as a Muggle and began a long career smuggling Jews from occupied into neutral and, later, Allied territory, while purebloods from every House peppered him with questions about life in the Muggle world.

By the following Monday, every student in Hogwarts knew the tale. She and Draco sat outside on the grass during one of their breaks and discussed it.

"I can't believe he lived as a Muggle."

Asteria aimed her wand at a patch of grass beneath a tree, and then whispered the spell Professor Altman had covered a few days ago. Sprigs of baby's breath sprouted, and she plucked them. "He says it wasn't that hard, once he got used to it."

"Don't know if I could."

She braided the small white flowers into her hair. "Me neither. But it might be fun to try." When he lifted a brow, she shrugged. "Just for a day or two."

"Taking fashion advice from Lovegood, are we?"

"She asked to borrow my headband—the multicolored one I wore the other day?"

"And?"

Asteria grinned. "I said yes, if I can wear her butterbeer bottlecap brooch."

"Will you?"

She finished the narrow braid and let it hang against her loose hair. "It's cute. Has a sort of shabby charm to it, if you ask me."

Draco smiled and shook his head, raising his book again. "You and Lovegood, sharing clothes. Hilarious, really."

Asteria laughed and lay on her stomach, turning the page of her Charms book. For a few minutes she simply lay there, enjoying the cool, crisp autumn breeze kissing her face and rustling the orange-gold leaves above her. Draco sat in silence, holding the page in place with his thumb as the breeze tried to turn it for him. Every few minutes, she paused in her reading to look at him out of the corner of her eye. Several times she thought of speaking to him, but each time she decided her remarks were too dull. So she blushed and went back to her book, stealing another glance at Draco as the wind ruffled his hair.

It was strange, she thought, how unsure she was now. Perhaps it was the sudden absence of risk. For the entire school year before the battle, she had gone to bed each night, wondering if the next day would be the one where she was found out. She had envisioned a hundred scenes, each worse than the last, where the Carrows learned of her involvement with Dumbledore's Army, or her parents' involvement with the Order, or her grandfather's involvement with smuggling Muggleborns—when she stopped to consider all the things that could have gotten her killed, she marveled at how little the Carrows had suspected her.

Draco had been in danger, too, she realized, and more so than she. The Dark Lord had seen through his charade before she did, and had simply bided his time. The eagerness with which he would take a life—Draco's life—sent shivers through her body.

Now they were gone. The Dark Lord dead, the Carrows in Azkaban. Was that why the surety was missing? Without the constant threat of death, there was no urgency, nothing pushing them together. Was that why she felt shy and bold by turns; why she wondered each day if he would tire of her?

"You can sit here, if you want. There's plenty of room."

Asteria started. Draco was patting the grass beside him, offering her a spot against the tree trunk. Was he offering to be polite, or did he want her to sit there?

She hesitated, then pulled herself up and sat against the tree. It was much more comfortable here, much easier to hold her page in place. Still, the question of Draco's motive nagged at her.

Casually, almost absently, she let her right hand slide from her book to the ground and left it there, feeling the soft prickle of the grass against her palm. Her heart pounded, and she kept her eyes on her book.

Without raising his head, Draco let his left hand slide from his lap to the ground, landing atop her hand. She felt the warmth of his palm over her fingers spread all the way to her toes.

* * *

Asteria heard him arguing with Hermione Granger a week later.

"I'm just asking you to tutor them in Transfiguration!"

"And I still haven't heard a 'please.'"

He inhaled sharply. "Fine. Granger, would you please tutor two first-years in Transfiguration so they can move up to the second year, where they belong? Especially since I have agreed to tutor _your_ students in Potions?"

Granger paused for a moment. Asteria peeked out at her from around a corner and saw her tapping her finger against her chin. "Only if I can tutor them in their common room," she said at last.

"In…in Slytherin?"

"Unless they've suddenly transferred, yes." She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Malfoy! Greengrass goes in there! At least once a week, if my guess is correct."

"Yes, but….but…."

"But what, Malfoy? Am I too Gryffindor? Or too common? You saw_ our_ common room, I hear."

"That's different."

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is! Granger, it was during a bloody _battle_!"

"_They're_ Muggleborn! _I'm_ Muggleborn! And yet you'll have them in your common room but keep me out of it?"

"They're Slytherins, and they like it there!"

"Greengrass is a _Ravenclaw_! And from what I can tell, she likes it just fine!"

The corridor was silent for a long moment. Finally, Draco's shoulders sagged, and he sighed. "Fine. The password is 'springtime.'"

"'_Springtime_?'"

Draco threw his hands in the air. "I'm not kidding! It was the gargoyle who chose it, I swear!"

Granger gave him an odd look, then shook her head. "Fine. I'll be there tomorrow at eight."

She turned on her heel, marching off down the corridor. Asteria tried not to laugh.


	40. Letter Fourteen

_Thank you to L.A.H.H., solemnly-up-to-no-good, tenneyshoes, The Glowing Mischief, SheWhoDreamsOutLoud, Nanchih, aleera, yellow 14 and Off Dreaming for the reviews! _

_I can hardly believe it's here: the last chapter before the epilogue. If I get enough requests for a sequel, I will probably write one. But I figured that this—well, the epilogue, anyway—would be a good place to end this fic. _

_Gah….one more chapter before I'm allowed to get all sentimental….._

* * *

_Anton Linder was, without exaggerating, the most interesting man in the world. _

_Until he came to teach at Hogwarts, I only knew the Dark Lord desperately wanted to recruit him. But once he became our Muggle Studies instructor, I and the other Slytherins learned all sorts of fascinating things about him. Theodore was impressed that he faked his death twice (once in 1944, and again in 1997) to more easily smuggle so-called "undesirables" out of hostile territory. Millicent was amazed that he spoke twenty languages. And everyone in Slytherin House, whether they approved of it or not, was floored by the fact that he lived for seven years as a Muggle. It sounded like some punishment the Ministry would visit on the scum of wizarding society, but Anton Linder had embraced it willingly. _

_After the novelty of our new teachers wore off, we began noticing things about Professor Linder. How he gave just as many points to Slytherins as he did to Gryffindors. How he looked us in the eye when answering our questions. How he drenched our papers in red ink, drowning our essays in comments: "Good work! Very insightful. Muggle bus drivers are much more well-trained than Ernie Prang, which, as you pointed out, is one of the reasons why they are more widely used." _

_You wouldn't allow me to take Muggle Studies because Professor Burbage preached that they were just like us, only without magic. You approved of Alecto's curriculum, how she claimed they were filthy animals who drove us wizards into hiding. Unlike those two views, Anton Linder's was sound: Muggle culture is very different—louder, brighter, more fast-paced—and yet the Muggles themselves are not. They cannot use magic, but some can understand it. They did not fight in our wars, but they fought wars of their own—over shockingly similar issues. And if a wizard and a Muggle were placed in a room and forced to talk with each other, they would find they had more in common than they thought. I could see why he kept those views private before and during the war. _

_Of course, he didn't say that all at once. He showed it through his lessons—lessons that included brief lectures and long asides on World War II, trips to Hogsmeade to demonstrate microwave ovens where the magic in the air wouldn't interfere with the circuitry, and songs by Gloria Gaynor. (It's a pity you've never heard of her. "I Will Survive" is one of her best, and I'm sure you'd love it if you gave it a chance.) _

_That year, we had two Muggleborns Sorted into Slytherin—Tabitha Smythe and Kyle Bennett. If the Dark Lord's regime split Slytherin in two, their arrival brought the invisible line into view. I decided to tutor them because….well, I won't list all my reasons, since you're probably still processing the first part of that sentence, but the main one was this: It was time to leave the past behind, and if the Sorting Hat wanted to speed up the process, so be it. They started a year late, thanks to the Carrows, and I made it my goal to move them up to the second year as soon as possible. In return, they helped me succeed in Muggle Studies, especially when Professor Linder mentioned a certain musician named Michael Jackson…._

_Again, I won't bore you with the details, but thanks to Theo and Millie, pictures are available for a small fee. _

_There were quite a few twelve-year-old first-years that year, and what with word traveling between the Houses, I ended up tutoring most of them in Potions. Granger taught them Transfiguration, but insisted upon tutoring each student in his or her common room. This meant she came to Slytherin once a week. She was there the night the first tapestry was noticed. _

"_Hey, Draco….there's a tapestry over here." _

"_There are tapestries everywhere, Theo." _

"_Not tapestries of Snape." _

_I hurried over. Sure enough, there was Professor Snape as a child, talking with a redheaded girl in what appeared to be a garden. I'd had enough lessons by that point to know that his attire was odd, even for a Muggle. The girl was small, and even through the tapestry I could tell there was a sweetness about her. _

"_Who's that?" A small crowd had gathered, and the question was asked more than once. I ran my fingers over the threads, searching my mind for the answer. _

"_The boy is Snape," I said at last, stepping back. "I don't know who the girl is." _

"_Lily Evans." _

_All hushed, watching Granger. _

"_Harry told me about her. She was his mum." _

"_I didn't know Snape knew her." _

"_He loved her." Granger's fingers brushed the scene, and she smiled sadly. "She was the reason he betrayed Voldemort, working for Dumbledore all those years." _

_I winced, along with most everyone else. "Please, _please _don't say his name." _

"_What does it matter? He's dead." With a shrug, she turned away, followed by most of the Slytherins gathered there, begging her to finish the story. I listened, but my mind kept wandering back to the tapestry, to the Snape I thought I knew._

"_A double agent," I whispered when she finished. "Why didn't he tell us?" _

_Granger didn't have an answer. _

_A few weeks after Christmas, Asteria came to the Slytherin common room to do her homework. She returned the greetings tossed her way, then sat down next to me on the sofa. I was just about to put my arm around her when she got to her feet and walked across the room, stopping at one of the tapestries. _

"_Draco, come here," she said without turning around. I set my book aside and followed her, squinting at the tapestry, trying to see what the fuss was about. When I saw what she did, I stopped dead in my tracks. _

I _was on that tapestry. _

_I blinked, thinking my eyes deceived me, but there I was, tossing the broken diadem at the Dark Lord's feet. "I….I didn't know I looked that angry." _

"_Oh, you looked much angrier than that," Millicent said. "I saw your face as you passed me." _

"_I half expected you to punch him in the nose," Theo added, then shrugged. "Or lack of it."_

_Asteria laughed, throwing her arms around me. "I knew you'd make the tapestries! I knew it!" _

_Tabitha pushed her way to the front. "Hey, Kyle, come here! Draco's on the tapestry!" _

"_Cool!" He squinted at the scene. "What are you _doing_?" _

_And so Asteria, Millicent and Theodore told them about the battle. I didn't join in. Try as I might, I couldn't take my eyes off the tapestry. I felt certain that any moment I would wake up and find that this was all a dream—a wonderful dream that would come once and then never return. But every time I went back for another look, the tapestry was still there._

_Once the shock had worn off, I decided to see if there were any more tapestries from the war. Harry and Neville each had one in Gryffindor. Cedric Diggory and Nymphadora Tonks were memorialized in Hufflepuff. And in Ravenclaw, Asteria's likeness passed notes with mine. _

_Slytherin's were the only tapestries that confused me. Honestly, I expected to see more scenes from the war, considering our House was the one that caused it. There was Snape's, of course, and mine, but he and I seemed to be the only two Death Eaters who were immortalized in embroidery. I tried to find the Dark Lord's (he was a Slytherin, after all) but the only tapestry where I saw him was mine. _

_I thought of what the Sorting Hat sang at the start of the year—about two Slytherins breaking the Dark Lord's curse—and spent quite some time wondering what that meant. When I asked Asteria for her opinion, she began searching the tapestries. I asked her what she was looking for. _

_"The temptation of Eve," she said. _

_I frowned at her, though she didn't see it. "We hate that one. Why are you looking for it?" _

_"I had a hunch...hang on...no, that's not it..." _

_After a few minutes of fruitless searching, she turned to me with a smile. _

"_It's gone." _

"_What's gone?" _

"_Eve. The temptation of Eve. It's gone." _

_"It can't be." I didn't want to look at it, but I had to see if she was wrong. So I went through all the tapestries twice, but found no trace of it. Asteria watched me from the sofa, and when I turned back to her, she was still smiling. _

_She explained her theory. Slytherin, being the serpent's House, wasn't always the one identified with wickedness—just like most snakes weren't exactly bad. It was simply more inclined that way, thanks to Salazar Slytherin's less-than-admirable legacy. The Dark Lord, she said, corrupted Slytherin House more than anyone before or since, bringing out the worst in it and sweeping all of its good qualities under a rug. That was the curse the Hat referred to. When Snape and I chose to betray him, we broke that curse, allowing Slytherin to one day rise from the ashes. Our House no longer belonged to the Tempter, hence the removal of his tapestry. _

"_Of course, that's just my theory," she said with a shrug. "I'm not a Slytherin, so I don't know all the details." _

_We still liked it. _

_The rest of the year was uneventful. I left Hogwarts that June and entered the St. Mungo's training program a week later. The director was thrilled. Evidently, he had been seeking out students who were well-versed in the Dark Arts but wouldn't succumb to them. For that, I suppose I should thank you; your nonchalant attitude toward the Dark Arts must have rubbed off on me. And after what I had seen during the war, I had no more desire to use them than I had to devour an uncooked flobberworm. _

_I wrote Asteria often during that year. If I saw or heard something interesting, I'd write and tell her about it. If I sought her advice, I'd write and ask her for it. She wrote just as often, sharing quick insights or observations, sending me long letters about her day, asking for my expertise when questions of the Dark Arts arose. Her letters made me laugh, and I tried to return the favor. _

_I can't tell you when I realized I loved her, because I don't know. She left Hogwarts and entered the Auror office, training as an analyst—compiling intelligence, making sense of random facts, sharing her findings with Aurors so their split-second decisions would be accurate ones. Several times a week we would get together—she would join Mum, Aunt Andy and me for dinner, or I would go to her house for the evening meal. On our days off, we would take long walks around her parents' or Aunt Andy's property, talking or just enjoying each other's company. She grew up in a modest home in the woods, with a few other houses scattered between ancient trees and brambles. When the weather was nice, she liked to climb those trees and sit on the branches, reading a book, one leg dangling in the air. She taught me how to climb, but I never quite rose to her level of expertise._

_I don't remember when we began talking about the war. I know I was the one who started it, but I don't remember how. I do know that whenever we talked about the war, I would share a story with her about something awful I'd seen or done, and she would listen. She didn't condemn me or offer advice, or try to absolve me of guilt. She simply listened. And every time she saw me again, she greeted me with a smile and a hug or maybe a kiss on the cheek, and she would begin talking as if nothing I had told her before made any difference. _

_Our time together quickly became routine. It seemed perfectly normal to find her waiting for me in the hospital waiting area when I left for my lunch break, or to send her an owl from work and receive one back in minutes. And yet there was nothing ordinary about it. Her stories made the most mundane things fascinating. Her smile lit up the room. Her eyes were always sparkling, like two sapphires. She was the best part of each day, and I didn't want to imagine one without her in it. I told her so one cold, blustery evening during Hanukkah as we watched the snow shiver down outside the windows. Holding her close, I asked her to marry me. _

_I didn't mean to make her cry. _

_I love her, Dad. I know this sounds trite, but the truth is, I didn't know what love meant until I met her. She knows what I've done and doesn't care. She sees my past, but prefers to focus on my present. She believes in me; believes I can be more than what I've been. I can't tell you what a gift that is. _

_You won't be at the wedding. I'm sure you've heard about it regardless, from curious guards who like to wag their tongues. And I'm sure you sit there, pretending not to hear them but wondering how on earth your son could choose someone like Asteria Greengrass. _

_I've told you why I chose her. Why she chose me is another question. I hope you can meet her one day. When you do, perhaps she'll explain her reasoning to you. Perhaps she won't. Whatever the case, I pray you will see her for the diamond she is, and embrace her as your daughter. _

_Your son, _

_Draco _


	41. Epilogue

_All right! Last chapter! NOW I can be all sentimental! _

_First off, I'd like to thank you guys for sticking with this fic for as long as you have. There were points where I thought about giving up, and times when I wanted to start over, but you—my loyal, wonderful readers—kept me going. _

_As for my reviewers, thanks for the last chapter's reviews go to: SheWhoDreamsOutLoud, The Glowing Mischief, yellow 14, aleera, crazy's wat i am 4, Off Dreaming, lilyplusjamesistotallove, Jojibear, dumbledore-plays-the-piano, L.A.H.H., Softballer-4-Eva, and solemnly-up-to-no-good! I'm sorry I won't be able to thank those of you who will review this chapter (but don't let that stop you :P). _

_I'd also like to thank all the people who have favorited this story so far: Aileen Autarkeia, Blood and Dark Chocolate, cherry-888, desibookworm, Drunk Acorn Bear, Fairne, 02, firstlovestory, Frostyfriend96, hardestofhearts, .dear, icansoar, JoStone, ka72ty, kaikuduo, lilyplusjamesistotallove, Loves to read books, LTree16, Mandable, MarshBloom, mEEEm, mem277, Mini-mom7, mydarkillusion, NyxBorn, Off Dreaming, Pixie Queen Mesa, prongs and lily flower, RavenclawRebel, Ravenn28, SecretPain121208, Shahrezad1, SheWhoDreamsOutLoud, Sierra Sapphire, Sims addict, starkid31, Sweet Epiphany, SwiftAlice, SylverQueen, tenneyshoes, TheYellowUmbrella94, TICKK and where's alice. When I put you all in a single paragraph like that, there are a lot of you—especially considering this is an AU non-Dramione story. I'm so blessed by your support. _

_And, lastly, I must thank the silent crowd of readers who stuck with this story, yet didn't comment on it. Whether you liked this fic or not, thank you for reading it all the way through. I hope it has, in some small way, made your life better. If nothing else, I hope you got a few chuckles out of it. _

_OKAY. Enough with the unabashed soppiness! To the epilogue! _

* * *

Azkaban was an unpleasant place on the best of days. Ancient spells kept sunlight from visiting. Cold wind screamed while dark waves threw themselves against the thick stone walls. Even at the center of the prison, a faint echo of the wind's plaintive lament could still be heard, mingling with the faint drip of a leak no one ever bothered to repair. There, even the softest footfall echoed on the stone floors. A whisper could be heard for yards around. The slightest movement was caught by candlelight and reflected in shadows across the corridor.

Lucius Malfoy was not held in the center of the prison. That unenviable position had been occupied for years by the Lestranges, but of late the Carrows had usurped them in notoriety. Lucius didn't complain. The dismal view of rocks and waves and charcoal clouds his tiny window afforded was there to warn him not to escape, but he preferred it to the company of Amycus and Alecto. Ten days beside them in the Ministry's holding cells was more than he could stand of the siblings—and more than any human should be forced to endure. _Worse than the dementors, _Lucius thought with a shudder.

He had never been a Shacklebolt supporter, but when the question of Azkaban arose, Lucius had to take the Minister's side. Ridding the island of dementors was perhaps the best decision that Mudblood-lover ever made. A slow roll off the edge of sanity, aided by the isolation and silence, was preferable to the rapid plunge afforded by hungry dementors. Until the next Minister of Magic decided Shacklebolt was soft on war criminals and reinstated the dementors, Lucius would enjoy the serenity.

Lucius rose (as he often did when his thoughts turned to the Carrows) and went to his bunk. He lifted the thin mattress and removed the papers concealed beneath it. Then, fanning them out like cards, he sat on the bunk and read them for the hundredth time.

First, an article clipped from _Witch Weekly, _covering the eighteen- and nineteen-year-old Hogwarts students who had chosen to repeat their seventh year. Of particular interest were three Slytherins who had selected this route: Theodore Nott, Millicent Bulstrode, and Draco Malfoy. The writer, a woman named Helen Faust, had quizzed them on their reasons for staying and their plans upon leaving school.

Next was a _Daily Prophet _news brief listing the ten students entering St. Mungo's training program in 1999. Once again, Draco's name was mentioned.

The third article was still wrinkled from Lucius' first reading, when he had crumpled it and thrown it across the cell. It alerted _Prophet _readers to the burning of Malfoy Manor, which had stood unoccupied since the war. Occupants of the nearest village, several miles away, had smelled smoke before they saw it billowing over the treetops. A crowd soon gathered, and a group of witches and wizards volunteered to intervene. When they arrived, they found not a flaming schoolhouse or burning village, but the rapidly disintegrating remains of Malfoy Manor. Draco greeted them with a smile and reassured them with a laugh. Everything is under control, he said. This is just something I've needed to do. Care to join me? Marshmallows, meat and potatoes were roasted over the young man's ancestral home.

The fourth article was not an article at all, but a wedding announcement. Draco Malfoy and Asteria Greengrass, together with their parents, invited guests to witness them joined in marriage. Printed on fine parchment, with small silver curls ringing the edges and daisies in the corners, the announcement was barely elegant enough to pass muster for a Malfoy wedding. Nowhere on the invitation was the reminder to wear one's best robes, or to buy new ones for the occasion. Rather, it promised an afternoon reception beside the same stream where the ceremony would take place.

Each scrap of news had been tossed into Lucius' cell at different intervals. The guard who delivered them always timed it perfectly so he could vanish while Lucius was still distracted by the news he recieved. Lucius was reasonably certain there was no rule against bringing prisoners news of the outside world, but he decided his newsboy preferred a degree of anonymity. Far be it from Lucius to begrudge him that. If his newsboy ever showed his face, Lucius' only complaint would be that his son's headlines were few and far between.

There was something different about today. Lucius tried to pin that something down as he traced one of the printed daisies with his finger. It couldn't be the wedding; that date had passed nearly three weeks ago. That his knowledge of the date had come solely from a discarded announcement thrown to him by an anonymous guard still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

No, this was something else. Expectation wasin the air. The guards drew near his cell, then averted their gazes and hurried past. Was it his imagination, or were there more of them today? Either the warden had hired placed a score of new guards in his wing, or every guard in the prison had found an excuse to pass his cell.

He tried to find their gawking irksome and couldn't. Five years of being scrutinized through a barred door and gaped at from a distance had hardened him to the treatment. Now, he was simply curious. Why would the guards come to stare at a former Death Eater, the least dangerous of the lot? Unless….

To have a ruling revoked was unusual, but not unheard of. The case of Rubeus Hagrid came instantly to mind. Luck had worked in the half-giant's favor: Scant months into his sentence, evidence of his innocence had surfaced, and Hagrid was set free. If faulty evidence could work in one's favor, could it also work against one's interests?

Could a life sentence become a death sentence?

Lucius shuffled the papers again, hoping the guards weren't close enough to see his hands tremble. He would be notified if new, condemning evidence came to light. A word from a guard would suffice. And then there would be a new trial, new witnesses, new testimonies. He would have time to prepare.

The hollow thump of wood on stone made him jump, scattering the papers.

He looked up. The guard, a man with grey-streaked brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard, lifted a brow, hands frozen on the chair. "You've got a visitor, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius blinked in surprise. "A…" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. The remaining guards had scattered, like frightened vultures. "May I ask who?"

The guard straightened, motioning to someone down the corridor. Three shadows, warped and waving in the unsteady torchlight, started forward. Lucius watched, his heart pounding, until two guards and a small girl emerged.

"Your daughter-in-law," the first guard announced, and nodded at the girl. She took a seat and gave the guards a nervous smile, a small thank you. The guards melted into the corridor. All this time Lucius watched, aware of his wide eyes and shaking hands, but unable to do anything about them.

The girl, he knew, was actually a young woman—she had been a girl when his son challenged the Dark Lord—but she appeared no older than sixteen or seventeen. Her bright yellow cloak, embroidered with flowers, and turquoise hair ribbon made her look even younger. She had the innocent grin of a child.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Asteria Malfoy. But I suppose you already knew that," she added with a laugh. "They did say I was your daughter-in-law."

"I know what they said." He glanced pointedly at the silver Star of David round her neck. "You're a Jew."

"Messianic."

"Meaning…."

She gave a soft laugh, fingering the jewelry. "At the risk of oversimplifying, it means I'm Jewish _and _Christian."

Lucius stood and gathered his papers, hiding his dismay. His son hadn't merely turned his back on the Dark Lord; he had taken his teachings and thrown them in the mud, spitting on his childhood beliefs. How two groups that preached peace could have fought the Dark Lord so fiercely was beyond him. Yet fight they did, until they paid the price for dissent in full.

"Is that our wedding announcement?"

Lucius snatched it up and put it on the bottom of the stack, his lips curving into a smirk. "Ah, so you recognize it."

"Of course I do. I'm just wondering how _you _got one."

He didn't return the papers to their hiding place, but held them as he resumed his seat. "It was tossed on my floor."

"By who?"

"I don't know."

She sat in silence for a moment; Lucius restrained the urge to look at her. To do so would imply he was willing—even eager—to converse with her. Make her sit, he told himself. Make her think. Make her squirm. He directed his gaze out the window at the dismal late-morning sky.

"You've come rather early for a weekday chat," he remarked.

"I don't work until this afternoon. I work most mornings, though."

"Why did my son not come with you?"

His question seemed to trigger her memory: He watched from the corner of his eye as she pulled her colorfully embossed leather bag onto her lap, dug through it, and produced a roll of parchment. She held it out, but he pretended not to see. She stood and dropped it through the bars. Lucius heard the soft slap of parchment.

"He wrote you a letter," she said, sitting again. "Before the wedding."

Lucius forced himself to remain still.

"I told him to send it, so you'd know before word got around, but…." She uncrossed and then crossed her legs. "You should read it. He explains everything."

"Does he now."

"He does." She stood, giving the scroll a sharp kick through the bars. It jumped, then fell back onto the stone, mere inches from where it had landed. "Will you read it?"

Lucius' gaze never strayed from the window. The girl sighed softly; her hand slid from the bars and she turned away. She took a few soft footsteps.

"You delivered my son's letter. Is that why you came?"

Asteria stopped. "No," she said. "It's not the only reason."

Lucius turned his head and looked at her, lifting an eyebrow. "And the other?"

She gave a small but genuine smile, like a sliver of starlight. "I came to see you. You are my father-in-law."

He turned away. The guards weren't insisting she keep moving, and she still hadn't taken a step. "Then I suppose you won't return for that purpose."

She paused. "We have most every Saturday off. I'll bring Draco along, if he wants to come."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then I'll come alone."

With that, her footsteps receded down the corridor, flanked by the guards' heavy footfalls. Lucius turned from his window and lifted the parchment from the floor. It felt warm in his hand, though he knew it was no warmer than the rest of the prison.

Saturday. He had five days. Five days to read his son's letter. Five days until his daughter-in-law returned.

Would she?

_I'll come alone, _she said. A promise if he'd ever heard one, but promises were made to be broken.

_I'll come. _

Lucius sat down on his bunk and unrolled the parchment. Asteria would return. He felt foolish for thinking so, but her words rang true.

She would return, and he would be waiting.

The end


	42. Author's Note

_This is just a quick note for everyone still interested in the story. _

_I've begun a collection of oneshots called _True Colors Deleted Scenes, _where I will share little scenes and character musings that pop into my head. The reason? Well, I've also started a sequel called _Starlight. _The problem: I don't feel I'm quite up to speed with all the characters I've left behind in _True Colors, _so the oneshots will hopefully help get me on track. And in the meantime, I'd be glad if you all enjoyed them as well. _

_So if you want to help me, get on over to the deleted scenes and give me your feedback! _


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